


The Living Arrangement

by livin_in_my_head_2



Category: Marvel, Spider-Man/Deadpool - Joe Kelly (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-05-14 16:23:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 25,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14773055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livin_in_my_head_2/pseuds/livin_in_my_head_2
Summary: When Wade Wilson finds himself down on his luck, he moves in with Peter Parker. What could go wrong? / I had originally posted this on Fanfiction.net in honor of "Spider-Man: Homecoming" but have edited and re-uploaded it here in honor of "Deadpool 2" :) / Rated Teen for sexual innuendos; there might also be slightly sexual scenes





	1. IMPORTANT INFO

In this alternate universe, Peter and Wade are sixteen at the same time and attend the same high school in New York City. This story takes place over summer break between freshmen and sophomore year. I should make it clear that I have absolutely no problem with scars, and wouldn’t have removed Wade’s from the story, but Wade likely wouldn’t have returned home or continued going to school if he received them. After all, teenagers are naturally somewhat self-conscious, and we saw how shitty the scars make Wade feel in "Deadpool."

Peter Parker:  
His backstory is unchanged. However, none of his classic supervillains have seen the light of day yet. For now, he deals with petty theft and the like. (Think: "Spider-Man: Homecoming" before Vulture and without Avengers, lol)

Wade Wilson:  
Wade didn’t feel the need to go after Francis after his torturous treatment because he was left unscarred and was still a teenager. His complete, altered backstory will be shared in the story :)


	2. Taco Bell

Wade Wilson was tall, a few inches over six feet, with blonde hair and blue eyes - unfairly handsome, all in all. He was known as being a loner, never really one to socialize, and his grades were atrocious. It was a widely agreed-upon opinion throughout his high school that the only way he would ever amount to anything was through the military.

Even knowing all of this, Peter Parker was surprised to find Wade sleeping in an alleyway.

There was no mistaking that Wade was a full-time resident of this particular alley. After all, he had a bed of blankets set up and next to him…was that a gun? Peter’s eyes widened as he slowed to take in the sight. He had been walking to the library for some new books, but was now completely distracted.

Wade was fast asleep on top of the blankets, head turned towards his chest, his face obscured in shadow. No matter how much Peter wanted to help him, Wade intimidated him - even after that damned spider bite. Peter hurried onward, strictly library-bound.

Wade Wilson was muscular, with an impish smile he could turn charming in a second and a pair of dimples to match. He always managed to look innocent even when everyone knew he was anything but. Peter had spent months ignoring the flutter in his stomach whenever he saw Wade, mostly because Wade wasn’t just the school’s resident “bad boy” - he seemed legitimately dangerous. There were even rumors that he had killed people, and frankly, Peter didn’t doubt some of them.

So Peter hadn’t stopped in the alley, because he and Wade Wilson weren’t friends, however much a small part of Peter wanted to be.

*

The next day, on Peter’s way to the grocery store, Wade was still there. Today, he was awake and staring pensively at the wall across the alley. He didn’t look dangerous; just thoughtful. Peter swallowed his nervousness and called out shakily, “Wade?”

/So much for good first impressions./

Wade raised his head, looking over at him. “Peter?” he asked, confused.

/He knows my name!/

/Dear lord, I’m pathetic./

“Welcome to my palace,” Wade said, spreading his arms to show the alleyway in all its concrete glory. His expression was so sincere that Peter almost wondered if he was being serious.

“Um…do you live here?” he asked stupidly.

“Yeah. My mom and her boyfriend kinda-sorta got arrested for drug cultivation and I made a break for it before they could get something on me, too.” Wade smiled a dangerous, wolfish grin and Peter knew with utter certainty that he meant every word.

So there /was/ something Wade had done, then. Something to make him avoid police.

“Do you need anything?” Peter asked nervously, half hoping the answer was yes despite his apprehension at the thought of helping someone like Wade. What would a boy like that want, anyway? Alcohol? Drugs? Peter was fairly sure he would have no way of getting any of that.

“There is something, actually,” Wade said leisurely, standing and stretching. His shirt hitched up slightly to reveal a strip of pale, smooth flesh and Peter tried his best to focus. “A place to crash, a job, and some food. Mexican food, preferably.”

Peter blinked, taken aback at these rapid-fire requests. He was about to make up some excuse for why he couldn’t help Wade, why he had to get going right now - 

Wade met his gaze and smiled, that damn smile that made him look like an angel.

“Come with me,” Peter heard himself saying.

*

A half hour later, Peter was on the phone with Aunt May outside of a Taco Bell. She was currently ranting so loud he was sure the people driving by could hear.

“How could you just /invite/ a random boy to come live with us? I’ve never even heard of him! And his parents were /arrested?/ Doesn’t that seem a /bit/ dangerous to you?”

“Aunt May,” Peter finally managed to squeeze in.

“What?” she snapped, thankfully quieting before she rendered him completely deaf.

“He’s a friend.” A lie, but whatever. He had lied to his aunt in the past and apparently, he was willing to do it again. “He’s just going to sleep on our couch until he can get back on his feet. Then he’ll be gone, I promise.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the call before Aunt May sighed dramatically. “/Fine/,” she muttered. “My kindness will be the death of me.” She hung up before Peter could thank her.

He turned back and saw Wade cheerily waving at him through the large glass window of the Taco Bell, mouth full of Mexican food as per his request.

Peter sighed and slipped his phone back into his sweatshirt pocket as he re-entered the fast food restaurant.

“Listen,” he said sternly as he slid into the booth across from Wade. “You are going to be insanely polite. Like, politer than you’ve ever been to /anyone./ Otherwise, my aunt will kick you out in a heartbeat. Also, I saw your handgun out in the alley. No weapons in the apartment or, again, my aunt will call the police. You’ll be sleeping on our couch, and your goal is to leave as fast as possible. Got it?”

Wade grinned cockily. “Dominant. I like it.”

Peter felt blood rushing to his cheeks. Was Wade seriously /flirting/ with him? He sighed standing and doing his best to seem composed. It meant nothing. Wade was like this constantly, to everyone. /Oh, Aunt May’s gonna have a fit.../ “Come on.”

Wade stood and suddenly gripped Peter in a hug, causing the smaller boy to flinch backwards. Shocked, Peter instinctively moved to push away, but Wade was too strong.

“Thanks,” Wade whispered. “You rock, man.” He released Peter just as quickly as he had grabbed him. Peter staggered backwards, staring at Wade with wide eyes. Not only had the hug been entirely unexpected, but since being bitten by that spider, he had never met someone who was stronger than he was. He should have easily been able to push away from that hug.  
It was a strange feeling. He had forgotten what it was like, to be weak.

Peter strode ahead of Wade for the rest of the return trip home, hands shoved in his pockets. What was he /doing?/ This was stupid, so stupid. But seeing Wade sleeping in that alley…completely unprotected…

Peter remembered about a year ago, when Wade had been diagnosed with cancer. The crazy thing was, the guy had /kept coming to school./ Peter had actually once worked up the courage to ask him why he persisted like that.

Wade had grinned shakily - at that point, he did everything shakily - and replied simply, “They feed me here.”

Peter couldn’t even imagine a home life so terrible that a kid with /cancer/ preferred school. To the best of Peter’s knowledge, Wade hadn’t even received any treatment during that school year.  
That is, until the summer before high school. Wade had somehow made a full recovery and was back, even better than before. It was the strangest thing…

“You walk pensively,” Wade called, and Peter stiffened even further. He tried to relax, but now was acutely aware of how he must look - his hands shoved into his pockets, head hunched low…

“It’s cute,” Wade assured him, a teasing tone entering his voice. Peter squeezed his eyes shut as if to block out the words.

/Why/ had he done this?


	3. Ned's Opinion

“Aunt May! We’re home!” Peter called warily as he and Wade entered his apartment.

Aunt May emerged from her bedroom, eyeing Wade suspiciously. “Hello,” she said slowly. Peter braced himself for whatever rude or inappropriate comment Wade was about to make. Maybe this would all be over before it even began and he could go back to living his normal, juvenile delinquent-free life.

“Hello, ma’am,” Wade greeted her cordially. Peter’s jaw dropped. He hastily closed it as Aunt May glanced over at him.

His guest moved forward and extended his hand for a handshake, smiling openly all the while. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Aunt May replied uncertainly as she shook his hand.

“I hate to be such an inconvenience,” Wade apologized. “Your kindness means the world to me. I’ve kind of hit rock bottom. I don’t know what I would have done without you two.”

Aunt May smiled gently at him, a real smile, and Peter sighed with relief. Her maternal instincts were kicking in. Wade was in the clear. “We’ll fix up the couch for your bed,” she told him warmly. “And trust me, this is no trouble.” A lie, Peter knew, but hopefully, they wouldn’t be putting up with Wade for long.

“Do you have a laptop?” Wade asked Peter as Aunt May disappeared back into her bedroom. His voice had returned to its normal aloofness.

Peter eyed him suspiciously. “Why?”

“To watch porn,” Wade replied. When he saw how utterly taken aback Peter was, his signature grin broke through. “Relax, you prude. I want to start looking for jobs.”

Peter shrugged, still taken aback by how quickly Wade could change personalities. “It’s in my bedroom. I’ll go grab it.” He hurried into his bedroom and grabbed his laptop from where it was charging on his desk. As he powered it on, he turned around and instinctively jumped at Wade standing directly behind him, too close for societal norms.

“What?” the boy asked, gazing down at him innocently.

He was so tall. Peter was well aware of that but not /how/ tall he was - a good four or five inches taller than Peter. He swallowed and focused on the laptop in his hands.

Once it had powered up, he handed it to Wade. Wade settled onto Peter’s bed and began typing. Once he found the page he had searched for, he began reading, his gaze intense.

Peter stared at him for a moment. /Wade Wilson is in my bedroom./ Something he had never imagined to even be remotely true.

Someone knocked on the front door and Aunt May answered it. “Peter!” she called after a second of quiet greeting. “Ned’s here!”

Ned Leeds was Peter’s best (and only, if he was being fully honest) friend and the sole person he had come out to after questioning his sexuality - mostly thanks to Wade, he might add. He was going to /freak/ when Peter broke the news to him. Peter could hardly keep it together himself.

He left Wade in his bedroom, casting a glance over his shoulder as he did so. He wondered if he should be worried about Wade stealing anything from him, then decided that there was nothing in his nerdy bedroom that the rough-and-tumble boy could possibly find interesting enough to take.

Ned was at the door, smiling widely as he usually was. “Hey, dude,” he greeted Peter.

Peter glanced over his shoulder at Aunt May, prepping the couch for Wade, and dragged Ned back out into the hallway. “We need to talk,” he said tightly, lowering his voice. The smile slowly disappearing from his best friend’s face.

“So you remember Wade Wilson?” he started, stopping immediately at Ned’s expression “That is the least casual expression I’ve ever seen, if that’s what you were aiming for.”

Ned held up his hands. “Sorry, but I know this guy’s kind of a big deal for you. I mean, he’s the whole reason you realized - ”

“Shut /up/!” Peter hissed, glancing over his shoulder to ensure that neither his aunt or, worse, Wade, had heard.

Ned shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as if silently berating himself. “Sorry.”

Peter took a steadying breath to explain the situation entirely when something behind him made his friend’s eyes widen to the point of being cartoonish. Peter spun on his heels, already knowing what - well, who - awaited him.

“Hey, Ned!” Wade exclaimed cheerily. He was leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, grinning like a maniac. “Long time no see. Guess what? Peter and I are roomies!”

Ned gaped like a dying fish and Peter knew exactly how he felt.

*

“You’ve made a lot of stupid decisions, but this? Takes the cake,” Ned growled, pacing back and forth across Peter’s floor. Peter had pretty much just shut up and listen since his best friend had shoved him in here. After all, Ned was not the sort of person to /growl./ “Not telling anyone when you got bitten by that spider? Pretty dumb. Not telling anyone when you started sticking to walls? Not quite as dumb, but still near the top of the list. Choosing to use these powers to put yourself in peril basically every single day? /Used to be the worst./ But inviting” - Ned lowered his voice - “the dude who basically turned you gay to /live with you?/ One of you is gonna snap.”

“I’m not going to even touch the ‘turned you gay’ thing, but what is /that/ supposed to mean, we’re ‘gonna snap?’” Peter demanded. Ned shrugged, raising his hands noncommittally.

Peter sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look,” he said. “You shoulda seen how he was living. It was awful. He had a pile of blankets, Ned. God knows what he was eating - ”

Ned snorted in disbelief at his friend defending Wade. “Whatever,” he said tightly, holding up his hands. “I won’t judge my best friend’s crappy life decisions.”

“What did you come over for, Ned?” Peter asked, extremely tired of this conversation.

“Just to hang out,” Ned replied after a moment.

Peter nodded. It would be good to get his mind off of Wade, at least temporarily. “Okay. How about - ”

“Yo, guys!” Wade called from the living room. Peter squeezed his eyes shut tightly, as if this was a nightmare he could make dissipate. Then he opened them - sure enough, nothing had changed - and followed Ned into the living room.

The TV was on, broadcasting a news station. Peter hadn’t pegged Wade for a news type of guy, but that was the least of his concerns as he stared in horror at footage of a bank getting robbed.  
Peter groaned inwardly. /Time to bring out Spider-Man./ “Jeez,” he said neutrally. “That’s awful.”

“Hey, Peter,” Ned said suddenly, as if he had just remembered something. “Didn’t you wanna show me something? Before we came out here?”

Peter nodded, casting a grateful glance at his friend, and hurried back into his bedroom with Ned close on his heels. Aunt May was already in her room, so luckily she wouldn’t feel the need to discuss the news with her nephew, something she occasionally did.

In his bedroom, Peter wasted no time in stripping down to his underwear. “Where did I put my suit?” he muttered, glancing around his bedroom.

“You go do your thing, Spider-Man,” Ned muttered, shaking his head slightly as he left.

Peter searched frantically around for his costume, completely forgetting to close the door. That is, until he saw someone lean against the doorframe out of the corner of his eye. Peter glanced up and startled at the sight of Wade.

“Jesus, Wade - ”

Wade raised his eyebrows. “What exactly were you showing Ned?”

“You’re disgusting. What the hell are you /doing/?” Peter demanded as Wade remained unmoving, simply watching Peter scramble around. He grabbed his pants from the floor and began tugging them back on.

“Letting you know that I’m going to a job interview,” Wade finally replied.

“Wow, already?” Peter asked, slowing in his search for more clothing in the mess of his room. Perhaps this would all be over sooner than he had anticipated.

Wade nodded. “Yup.” He glanced up and down Peter once more. “Have fun with…whatever this is.” He shrugged and left.

Peter firmly closed his door, face burning as he finally found his Spider-Man suit tucked away under a pile of clothing in his closet. He pulled off his pants, yanked on the costume, and crawled out of his window without a moment of hesitation.


	4. Bank Robbery

Peter made sure to keep himself hidden as he slipped into the alleway next to the bank, but luckily, a policewoman was close enough that he could hear her talking into a walkie talkie. From the sounds of it, there were hostages inside the bank.

He would have to be careful.

Peter felt high on adrenaline, his fingers drumming quickly against his thigh as he surveyed the door in front of him. It was located in the back of the bank and looked to be made out of a thick, impermeable metal. Just his luck.

He tried the handle. It didn’t budge. /Locked./

Suddenly, his spider senses began blaring. “Hey, Spidey,” a deep voice behind him said, and Peter whirled around to find a strange man dressed in a red and black costume pointing a gun at him.

He reacted instantly, leaping out of the way. Rather than attempt to follow his path with the gun, the stranger aimed the weapon at the handle of the locked door and squeezed the trigger. He did so a couple more times before a bullet punched a hole through the material, breaking the door’s lock.

Peter, ears ringing from the gunshots, strode over to the man furiously. “I had this under control!” he hissed.

“Looks like you’re either gonna let this one go or we’re working together because I ain’t leaving and I’m the one with a gun,” the man replied lightly as he kicked the door open - a move purely for show, Spider-Man noted with annoyance, as the door was already unlocked - and gestured inside. “Ladies first.”

Fuming, Peter stormed into the bank. Trying to regain his former adrenaline high, he decided to focus on figuring out who the hell this stranger was /after/ he had saved the hostages.

Spider-Man snuck towards the main room of the bank. The hallway he had entered mostly held offices and conference rooms - the behind-the-scenes of banking. The criminals wouldn’t likely be interested in anything back here. When he reached the entrance leading into the main room, he peered carefully through the small glass window set in the door.

There were four robbers that he could see, masked men with semi-automatics trained on several people around the room. Every once in a while, they would shout and surge toward a new victim to terrorize them, but from what Peter had seen, nobody had been seriously injured.

Yet.

He intended to keep it that way.

“So what’s the plan?” the strange man whispered in his ear, having snuck up behind him. Peter jumped away in surprise, biting back a yell just in time.

“Don’t do that!” he whispered angrily.

“Sorry,” the man apologized, not sounding very sorry. “So you’re Spider-Man, huh?”

“This isn’t the time,” Peter cut him off, holding up his hand and trying to remain at least somewhat civil.

“I’m Deadpool,” the man continued leisurely, ignoring Peter.

“What kind of a name is /Deadpool?/” Spider-Man snapped, his annoyance getting the better of him.

“I wouldn’t be talking, daddy long legs,” Deadpool fired back easily. Peter felt a flush of anger and embarrassment rising to his cheeks and fought it down.

“Imma just go in there and start shooting,” Deadpool decided after another tense second of silence, racking his handgun and starting forward.

“No!” Peter exclaimed, grabbing his bicep.

Deadpool glanced down at Peter’s hand on his arm and then back up at the masked hero with slightly widened eyes. “This relationship is progressing kind of quickly.”

“/People’s lives are in danger,/” Spider-Man hissed. “Can you be serious and listen to me for /one second?/”

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” Deadpool replied soberly. He waited in silence for a literal second before piping up, “You want a gun? I have a spare.”

“/We are not going to kill anyone,/” Peter hissed.

“You’re no fun,” Deadpool pouted.

“Murder isn’t /fun!/”

“Whatever you say.”

Peter fought down his annoyance. “You want a plan? Here’s a plan. You go in and draw their fire - /but don’t return it./ And try not to get yourself shot. I’ll get everyone out. Sound like a plan?”

“Not a /fun/ plan, but sure,” Deadpool muttered sourly. The two men stood there for several seconds, staring each other down, before Deadpool asked, “What are you waiting for, Twinkle Toes?”

“For you to put away your gun,” Spider-Man replied evenly.

Deadpool sighed and dropped the magazine of the gun. It clattered harshly against the tile. Picking it up and shoving it into his belt, he asked, gesturing with his gun, “Are we good here?”

“I’m not stupid. You racked the gun. There’s a bullet in the chamber.” Peter crossed his arms, tapping his foot expectantly.

Deadpool sighed, racking the gun again. The bullet flew out of the gun, making Peter flinch. He knew how guns worked in theory, but he had little to no experience with them.

“Now let’s go!” Deadpool decided, not seeming to have caught the flinch.

Peter nodded. “After you.”

Deadpool pushed into the main room. Peter heard a cheery, “Hello!” seconds before ear-shattering shooting could be heard. He hurried in after the other masked man.

The hostages were screaming, fully panicking now if they weren’t before. Some of them remained cowering in their place, but others were making a mad dash for the doors. Spider-Man saw one of the robbers turn from attacking Deadpool and point a gun at a fleeing woman.

“Nice try,” Peter muttered, shooting webs at the man with such velocity that the criminal staggered, the gun knocked from his webbed-shut hand.

Peter grinned. This was what he loved about the job - the thick of battle.He swooped after the civilians, who were tugging desperately at the locked doors. Outside, the policemen had realized that something was happening and were rushing up to the building.

Peter caught sight of a little boy, pressed sobbing, against the glass. He hadn’t realized there were any children. “Spider-Man,” the boy sobbed, launching himself at the masked hero. Making a startled “Oof!” sound, Peter bent and scooped the child up, kicking through the glass of one of the doors.

“Careful!” he shouted at the hostages who wasted no time in pouring outside. “Watch the glass!”

Deadpool seemed to be distracting the robbers fairly successfully, and Peter had the sobbing child in his arms to deal with, not to mention the kid’s hysterical mother, who was being dragged to an ambulance despite her best efforts to return to her son. Peter couldn’t help Deadpool in the fight, not right now. He ducked through the broken door, hugging the child’s head to his chest with one hand to make sure his face was protected.

Cameras started flashing and the chatter of voices rose in volume as the famous Spider-Man emerged from the bank with a child in his arms. He ignored the attention of the gathering crowd, focusing on carrying the little boy to where his mother was sitting on an ambulance. She gathered him into her lap with a moan of relief.

Spider-Man bent and ruffled the little boy’s hair. “Hey,” he said gently. “You’re okay now.” On impulse, he leaned forward, pulled up his mask slightly, and gently kissed the child’s forehead. Then, he stood, raised a hand in farewell to the mother and her son, and hurried back into the bank.

Deadpool was on the ground, his crazed laughter the only sign that he was alive. None of the robbers noticed Peter reentering, as concentrated as they were with shooting the masked man over and over. The sight sickened Peter - how was Deadpool even /alive,/ let alone conscious?  
He wasted no time in webbing the villains so that they couldn’t move - most of them hadn’t even noticed his entry, so there was little retaliation. Then he hurried over to Deadpool, bending beside him.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he said frantically, reaching to examine his wounds and then pulling back for fear of making it worse. “I just need to get the paramedics - ”

“Oh, this is nothing,” Deadpool interrupted breathlessly.

Peter stared at him in shock. “You’ve been shot, like, a bazillion times!”

“Only seventeen times, actually. I was keeping count.” Deadpool’s voice was getting stronger as he talked. To Peter’s shock, the bullets’ entry holes were slowly closing, the bullets themselves being pushed out of his body as the flesh regrew.

“You have healing abilities?” he asked in awe. “That’s /awesome!/”

Deadpool chuckled slightly. “Thanks, I guess.” He stood, the bullet wounds in his legs fully healed. Peter hovered beside him, nervous that he would suddenly topple over and prepared to catch him if that happened.

“I’m fine,” promised Deadpool, now sounding as if he was telling the truth. “Now, what do you say we skip the crowds and exit the way we entered?”

Peter nodded. “Good thinking.” He didn’t really relish the thought of being surrounded by reporters trying to trick him into revealing something about his identity or taking a bunch of bad photos of him.

He followed Deadpool down the back hallway and out of the door they had entered through, wondering who the hell the man truly was.


	5. Bank Robbery Aftermath

Peter stripped out of his spidey suit as soon as he snuck back into his bedroom via the window. This time, he had barely gotten the costume dirty, although a few glass shards had lodged themselves in the thick fabric from when he had broken the door. It was a miracle none had cut through to his skin. He carefully picked out the shards with tweezers, disposing of them in the wastebasket by his desk and tucking his suit back into his closet, vowing to remember this time where he had stored it so he could avoid another embarrassing incident like what had happened earlier. His face burned at the memory of Wade leaning in his doorway, eyebrows raised as he leisurely watched him scramble around.

Peter was sweaty but not bleeding, so he simply pulled on the clothing he had been wearing prior to his excursion and hurried into the bathroom to clean up. Once he was done, he strolled casually into the living room to watch the news. Peter had to admit that even though he didn’t directly receive credit for the crimes he stopped, it was still a major confidence booster to hear the people he saved say kind things about him.

He happened to turn on the television just as the newscaster was pushing the microphone into the face of a familiar woman - he quickly recognized her as the mother of the child he had saved. Sure enough, the boy’s tiny face peeked just in the camera frame at her side, too short for anything else to show.

“Spider-Man was…amazing,” the woman was saying, her smile huge and genuine. “He saved my /child./ Any mother can easily understand how important - what that means to me.” She took a deep breath as she collected her thoughts. “My son idolized Spider-Man before, but now, he just won’t stop talking about him.”

“Is that true?” the newscaster asked delightedly, lowering the microphone to the little boy’s face. The camera changed to angle downward in order to capture the child’s every movement.

The boy grinned and yelled, “I love Spider-Man!” He giggled as everyone cooed and laughed, retreating halfway behind his mother once more. The screen filled with an image of Peter kissing the kid’s forehead, one of the many pictures the reporters must have taken.

A warm, tingling feeling filled Peter’s chest. He loved this more than anything - seeing how he had helped someone, even made their lives /better./ A small part of him also liked to think that the people he saved decided to live morally better lives from then on because they had seen where good intentions could lead them - to being heroes. It was wishful thinking, Peter knew, but a nice thought all the same.

Wade entered the apartment then and Peter glanced over his shoulder, turning off the TV. “How was the interview?” he asked, standing.

Wade shrugged noncommittally. “I don’t think I’m gonna get the job.”

Peter’s heart sank. It looked like Wade would be with them for a while yet. “Oh. Sorry.”

Wade shrugged again, even more casually. He seemed strangely…fine with the situation. “It’s okay. This is nothing.”

His words, so similar to those spoken by Deadpool, reminded Peter of the mysterious…superhero? Could someone who thought murder was fun be /considered/ a superhero? Peter wasn’t sure, but either way, he hoped that had been a one-time occurrence. The thought that he would have to regularly see and work with Deadpool was exhausting just to consider, and he hadn’t even lived /through/ it yet.

“You’re staring pensively into nothingness,” Wade informed him.

Peter snapped out of it, glancing over at him. “I’ll be in my room,” he muttered, standing and leaving the living room before Wade could say anything else.

*

That night, Aunt May ordered pizza. It was a rare occurrence, and Peter knew she had only done it for Wade. Her usual cooking style was either odd Italian food or simply heating up chicken nuggets in the microwave - there was no in-between when it came to Aunt May. Peter assumed that tonight would have been a microwave dinner night, if Aunt May had decided to opt out and order pizza. Or perhaps she was nervous of receiving criticism on her Italian cooking, although why Wade would complain about any sort of edible food, Peter didn’t know.

Wade wasn’t just uncomplaining - he was downright polite. He had called Aunt May “ma’am” at least once in every conversation they had had so far and thanked her often for allowing him to live with her and Peter. She was fast becoming fond of the boy, Peter could tell.

What he couldn’t tell, however, was whether or not that was a good thing.

“What did you boys do today?” Aunt May asked as they dug into their plain cheese pizza slices.

Peter shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “Not much.”

Wade placed down his pizza slice, brushing off his hands on his napkin. “I had a job interview, but it didn’t go so well.”

Aunt May made a sympathetic face. “Where at?”

Wade paused for a moment, chewing as he stared into space. Finally, he answered, “A fast food joint down the road a few blocks.” He took another large bite of his pizza before any more questions could be asked. Peter wondered if he was perhaps more upset about the interview than he had originally let on.

The rest of dinner was spent in relative silence as everyone focused on their food and thoughts. Peter wasn’t sure what to say in front of Wade, though he usually had no trouble bantering with his aunt.

Finally, though, the pizza was demolished and the meal was over. “I’m going to go to bed pretty early,” Peter decided, wiping his mouth off with his napkin and standing.

Aunt May nodded. “Okay, sweetie. Goodnight.”

Peter nodded as well, cleaned up after himself and showered at lightning speed. He always felt uncomfortable showering when guests were over.

Especially when said guests were Wade Wilson.

Once he was dressed in a plain white T-shirt and long pajama pants, as per usual, Peter closed his door firmly and slipped into bed.

He had saved a group of hostages, albeit with the help of that mysterious Deadpool. Spider-Man had done well today.

*

Peter woke up quickly and suddenly. Once upon a time, he had woken up slowly and lazily, no matter what day it was.

One radioactive spider bite later and that - along with so many other aspects of his life - had severely changed.

He stood up, rubbing at his eyes to clear them. Suddenly, he remembered: /Wade./  
Jesus. That had been a dream…right?

Knowing it hadn’t been but hoping it was, Peter shuffled out of his bedroom and into the main room of his apartment.

Wade was at the stove.

Shirtless.

Cooking…/pancakes?/

Peter groaned, crumpling into his seat by the table and burying his face in his hands.

He was not strong enough to get through this.


	6. Gas Station

“Are they good?” Wade demanded, sounding almost anxious as he intently watched Peter eat.

The pancakes were, strangely, great. Wade claimed that it was his first time cooking, which made Peter rather nervous, seeing as he had been inexpertly handling /fire/ as Peter and his aunt slept, but the boy’s attempt had turned out perfect.

“They’re amazing,” he told Wade around a mouthful of pancakes.

Wade grinned, one of his genuine smiles that made Peter’s heart beat faster. “Thanks.”

Aunt May emerged from her bedroom, yawning into her hand. “What is that wonderful smell?” she asked before seeing Wade, who hurried to stand and grab her a plate of breakfast from the counter.

“I made pancakes,” he explained with a charming smile, holding the plate forward like it was a peace offering - not that he needed one at this point.

Aunt May accepted the pancakes slowly, a hesitant smile spreading over her face. “Wade! You didn’t have to do this!”

Wade shrugged. “You both are being so kind to me, I figured I could at least do this much.”

Aunt May shook her head, probably at the idea of a homeless semi-stranger being so sweet. “Thank you so much,” she told the teenage boy sincerely, settling into the seat across from her nephew.

Wade ate his pancakes leaning against the counter instead of sitting down to join them. He was still shirtless, which Peter was trying desperately not to let distract him. He stared resolutely into the patterns made by his syrup, tracing designs in it with his fork when he had finished his breakfast.

Wade suddenly set down his plate and stretched. Peter nearly had a heart attack as his sweatpants shifted slightly. “I have a few errands I need to run,” he announced abruptly, leaving before either Aunt May or Peter could ask both where he was going and why he was going there shirtless. They both just stared at the closed door in silence.

Aunt May squinted thoughtfully. “He’s a wonderful boy,” she said slowly, “but I do think he’s hiding something.” She shrugged, returning to her pancakes. “As long as he doesn’t bring any trouble around here, I really don’t mind.”

Peter felt a twisting in his stomach. What if his stupid crush - or whatever it was - made Aunt May’s life dangerous? Peter was already constantly worrying that a vengeful thug would figure out his identity and go through her to get to him…and he wouldn’t put much past Wade: drugs, gambling, gangs…He glanced across the table at his aunt, who was innocently munching her pancakes.

He would keep her safe, no matter the cost. That much, he was certain of.

Sighing at his own dark thoughts, Peter rose, placing his dish and silverware in the sink. “Aunt May?” he asked over his shoulder. “Need anything from the store?”

“There’s a shopping list on the fridge,” his aunt replied. As he grabbed it, she said, “Thank you so much, dear. I wasn’t really feeling up to it today.”

“You okay?” Peter asked, instantly concerned.

Aunt May smiled. “You worry too much. I’m just having a lazy day. You know how it is.”

Peter nodded slowly. He didn’t really know how it was, not since being bitten by that spider - but his aunt was right. He worried far too much. That kind of came with the superhero package, though. There was constantly a whispering voice in the back of his mind, a fear for everyone he loved. He could see why some superheroes isolated themselves.

He grabbed his backpack from his room and grabbed the shopping list from the fridge as he passed by the kitchen. “Bye, Aunt May!” he called over his shoulder, swinging the door open.

“See you soon,” she replied distractedly, already sucked into whatever sitcom she was obsessed with now.

Peter shook his head fondly at the sight of her staring at the television and left.

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining…the birds were chirping…the sirens were wailing…

Peter stopped dead in his tracks and watched silently as a fire engine went screaming past him. Then, without a second thought, he ducked into an alley, concealing himself behind a Dumpster.

He always brought his suit with him wherever he went, just in case. Sure, maybe this was just a call for an accident, something that hadn’t been caused by criminals. Maybe Spider-Man couldn’t help whatsoever.

But the strange tingling, the one he had nicknamed his spider-sense, told him otherwise.

Once he had changed into his suit, Peter threw on his backpack, scaled a nearby building, and webbed the bag to its roof. Then, he took off after the ambulance.

Soon, he saw where it was going. A column of flames rose into the sky - a gas station was ablaze. Several bodies littered the ground, although Spider-Man was too far away to make out anything about them. He doubted he could even if he was standing directly next to them - he knew from painful past experience that fire tended to warp corpses past recognition.

Peter felt sick to his stomach. Spider-Man had shown up too late.

Then he saw a figure staggering out of the smoke. He tensed, prepared to swing down to the husk of a gas station. Who could have survived an explosion like that? Whoever it was, he had to help -

Peter gasped when he saw who it was. “Deadpool,” he hissed.

It was too late to save anyone, whether or not they were criminals. Whether or not there had even /been/ any bad guys. Deadpool had already done…whatever he had wanted to do in the gas station.

“I can’t believe I /worked/ with him!” Peter muttered furiously to himself as he turned away from the scene and returned to the rooftop on which he had webbed his backpack as if on autopilot. Deadpool was a murderer. He had killed others while counting on his own regenerative powers to save him. What kind of person /did/ that?

Then and there, Spider-Man vowed to take down the villain if he ever showed his face again.  
*  
Spider-Man had been so distracted by what he had seen that he completely forgot to go to the supermarket. He shuffled into his apartment, staring pensively at his feet, deep in thought.

“Peter!” Aunt May exclaimed tearfully, rushing across the room and grabbing him in a tight embrace. “Oh, thank god…”

“What?” he asked worriedly, pulling away from her after a few seconds of enduring the hug.

Then he glanced over her shoulder and saw what she was watching on the television.

The gas station filled the tiny screen, still burning.

Anger curled in the pit of his stomach as he listened to the newscaster speak about the tragedy: “...eight killed in a freak accident at a New York gas station. Reports are saying that this might have been a gang-related attack, as two of the victims have been identified as ex-members of one of New York’s most notorious gangs…”

Peter stormed into his room and slammed the door behind him as Aunt May called after him, concerned.

Deadpool had to be taken down. For everyone’s safety.


	7. Car Chase

Wade returned about an hour after Peter. “Oh, Wade, honey, I was worried,” Peter heard Aunt May tell him, sounding much less terrified than she had with Peter - understandably, of course. “You smell just like a campfire. Where were you?” Before he had a chance to reply, she rushed on, something she often did. “Oh, speaking of fires, did you see the news? Someone murdered eight people!”

“Yeah, I saw it,” Peter heard Wade say. “Weren’t the victims all criminals?”

Peter’s brow furrowed as Aunt May quietly replied, probably explaining the full story. Had he heard incorrectly, or was Wade actually on Deadpool’s side? Peter sighed and slid in his earbuds, letting the familiar music soothe him. He could worry about all of this later.

Right now, he was consumed with guilt - for not getting to the gas station fast enough, for not being able to save any of the eight victims. What was the point of being a superhero if people died in your area?

Sighing again, Peter pulled his Spidey mask out of his backpack and examined it.

“I can’t help anyone by feeling guilty,” he whispered. “All I can do now is stop things like that from happening again.”

Shoving the mask back into his backpack, Peter hurried across his bedroom and powered on his laptop. Within the hour, he had programmed the computer to send a message to his phone whenever any crime was being digitally monitored. Which was always, seeing as they lived in the 21st century. It had taken some mild police radio hacking, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Sometimes, you had to act like a criminal to stop criminals.

The monitoring system wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.

Wade knocked on Peter’s door just as he had finished. Peter slammed his laptop shut as the boy entered without permission.

“Dude!” Peter exclaimed, his irritation at Deadpool running too high to deal with this. “What if I was…naked or something?”

Wade raised his eyebrows as he pressed his lips together to hold in a grin. Peter silently cursed. He could not win with this boy. “What do you want?” he asked tiredly, dropping his head into his hands.

“May mentioned that she had some grocery shopping to do and I thought it’d be nice to get out of the apartment. Could I have the list?”

“Oh. Sure.” Peter reached over and grabbed his backpack, making sure to shield the majority of its contents - his suit - from Wade’s view. He dug out the crumpled list at the bottom and handed it to the boy.

Wade winked, smoothing it out against his thigh. “Thanks.”

Peter nodded wordlessly as Wade left his room. He sighed, rubbing his temples. What was happening to his life?

His phone buzzed as the monitoring system sprang into action and Peter slammed his door shut.  
*  
There had been a robbery at a nearby ATM, and the police and criminals were currently in a car chase. Peter swung from building to building, hurrying after the cluster of cars cutting smoothly through the traffic that swerved to avoid them - a rare sight for New York City. He surveyed the crowds of innocent bystanders who were desperately diving out of the way to escape the speeding cars, especially the one belonging to the thieves, who had no trouble with jumping the curb and possibly taking down a few civilians. Peter couldn’t see anyone who had got seriously injured, however. Yet.

It would be too dangerous to web the car itself. What if it flipped and crushed both its passengers and people surrounding it? What if the police cars ran into it and their passengers got hurt? No, Peter would have to think a little more outside the box.

He scanned the possible streets that the criminals’ car could turn down. There were three options at an upcoming intersection - right, left, or straight.

If he could anticipate where the criminals planned to turn and webbed a barrier at the beginning of that street, hemming the vehicle in…

Peter tracked the car, his heart beating furiously, fueled by adrenaline. He saw the car drifting to the left ever so slightly. Left street it is, then.

He dashed across the rooftops and set to work creating a shield of webbing just out of the view of the criminals. He finished just in time but wasted no time in getting to work on other streets.

The car turned onto the road, its left wheels leaving the ground for a harrowing second. It landed safely, however, and came to a screeching halt at the sight of the web shield. The police turned into the street as well, sirens blaring.

Peter dropped from the side of a skyscraper to the concrete, prepared to take the fire for the policemen if it meant that they wouldn’t get hurt. Sure enough, the thieves tumbled out of the car with handguns at the ready.

It took a few seconds to web the guns from their hands and stick them to the street. It took even less time to pin the men to their car and wrap them up tightly.

“The webbing takes two hours to wear off,” Spider-Man told the awestruck policemen as he passed. “Good luck.” They watched him swing off with slack jaws.

As Peter practically flew through the air towards home, he felt a surge of glee and leftover adrenaline. This victory had helped him regain some of his self-confidence. It was exactly what he had needed after the gas station fiasco of this morning.

His stomach growled as he realized it was time for lunch. I hope Wade’s back with those groceries.  
*  
For lunch, Aunt May microwaved some chicken nuggets.

“I know it’s a letdown after this morning’s amazing breakfast,” she told Wade embarrassedly, not bothering to attempt to redeem herself to her nephew, to whom nuggets were a regular dietary supplement, “but it’s quick and simple.”

Wade nodded, biting into his chicken nugget. “I love these,” he assured her sincerely.

Peter smiled slightly as he started eating his own lunch. For all of Wade’s inappropriate innuendos and rude nature when Aunt May’s back was turned, he was a decent guy while talking to her, at least. She deserved that.

Suddenly, Peter’s phone buzzed and his heart leapt in his throat. He sneakily checked it under the table and gave a sigh of relief when he saw that it was just a text from Ned.

“What are my rules about phones at the table, young man?” Aunt May demanded angrily, catching sight of Peter.

“It’s just Ned,” he replied hastily, scanning the text. “He’s gonna come over in a half hour.”

Aunt May nodded. “Okay.” She grinned and gestured with her fork between the two teenage boys. “You three can hang out!”

Wade bobbed his head enthusiastically. “Sounds fun!” He shot Peter a grin, so wide and sincere that Peter knew it was anything but.

Peter tried to hide his horror at the thought. Not only would Ned surely over-utilize meaningful looks and wide-eyed glances that Wade might see, but Wade would also surely not want to do whatever activity Ned had in mind. He would likely even make fun of Peter’s friend for suggesting it, knowing him.

“Sure,” Peter replied tightly when both Wade and his aunt looked at him expectantly. “That sounds great.”


	8. The Library

When Peter opened his apartment door, Ned greeted him with an innocent smile. His smile dimmed, however, at the expression on Peter’s face. “What?” Ned asked, glancing down at himself to check for a wardrobe malfunction or food stain.

“Wade’s going to be hanging out with us,” Peter hissed.

Ned’s eyes widened. “Why?”

“May,” Peter explained shortly, stepping aside to allow his best friend entry into the apartment. Ned walked inside uncertainly, acting as skittish as if it was a haunted house.

Wade was lounging on the couch but jumped up at Ned’s entrance. “Hey, Ned,” he greeted him easily. Ned raised a hand in half-hearted greeting, casting an incredulous glance over his shoulder at Peter.

After a moment of awkward silence, Wade asked, “What do you guys usually do for fun?” He shoved his hands into his back pockets, his expression open and inquisitive.

Peter shrugged, not wanting to divulge the truthful answer - that he and Ned would do anything nerdy: from building Lego sets to studying college-level subjects together. He knew exactly what Wade would think of that. “We just…hang out,” he replied instead.

Wade spread his hands as if inviting Peter to lead the way. “Awesome.”

After another awkward pause, Peter took a deep breath and led the two boys into his bedroom.  
*  
“What’s this?” Wade asked, picking up yet another object from Peter’s desk. He had been doing this for about five minutes now, but it was vastly preferable to the minute-long silence that had fallen over the trio when they had first entered Peter’s room.

“A Newton’s Cradle,” Peter replied slowly, eyebrows raising. “You’ve seriously never seen one before?”

Wade shrugged. “Well, yeah, I’ve seen them before, but I didn’t know what they were called.” He picked up one of the small silver balls on the end and released it, sending it crashing into its neighbor and forcing the ball on the other side aloft. He laughed in childish delight. “Cool.”

Ned and Peter exchanged a glance. Leaving the apartment on secret excursions one hour and playing with a Newton’s Cradle the next? Who was this guy?

“Ned, you’re a child genius too, right?” Wade asked, setting down the Newton’s cradle. “Like Peter here.” He flashed a grin at Peter and Peter shrank into himself slightly, cheeks burning.

Ned shrugged, looking taken aback. “Depends on how you define ‘child genius.’”

“So that’s a yes,” Wade muttered, moving on to the periodic table poster on Peter’s wall. “Now this, I recognize.”

Peter sighed in relief. So Wade hadn’t been completely ignoring every science class he had ever taken.

“Why’d you come over, Ned?” Peter asked his friend quietly as Wade examined the poster.

Ned’s gaze flicked to Wade. “I was wondering if you wanted to - I don’t know - go to the library or something.” His voice petered out as he watched Wade embarrassedly.

Wade spun around. “The library! I haven’t been there in…” He counted on his fingers, ticking off some unknown time interval. “Ever!” He grinned and shrugged.

“You’ve never been to the library?” Ned asked incredulously. Although he wasn’t looking at Peter, the latter boy could feel his friend’s judgement: What do you see in this idiot?

Wade shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

“For your entire life?”

“Let it go, Ned,” Peter interrupted tiredly. He smiled wearily at the two boys. “Let’s go.”

A trip to the library would be nothing but relaxing.

Right?  
*  
“Why are you in the children’s section?” Peter hissed, hurrying over to Wade as the latter waved cheerily at a small child, looking for all the world like he was looking for the kids in the area rather than the books. His hoodie and devil-may-care attitude was not helping his creep factor.

“Kids’ books are so cheery,” Wade explained. “Any books meant for older demographics are too dark and gritty.”

Peter just stared at him. First off, Wade had just used the word “demographic” correctly in a fully formed sentence. Second, Wade seemed like the last person to care about whether or not a book was happy, especially since he didn’t read books. If anything, Peter would have pegged him for someone to enjoy novels by authors such as Stephen King or George R.R. Martin.

Wade cocked his head. “What?”

Peter shook his head. “Nothing.” He peered at the cover of the book that Wade was currently reading. “What is that?”

Wade held it up with a grin. “The Babysitter’s Club!”

Peter threw up his hands in exasperation and noticed Ned watching the entire exchange with raised eyebrows. Peter hurried over to his friend, rubbing his temples.

“The library’s supposed to be relaxing,” he whispered tersely. “Soothing.”

“Yo, Peter!” Wade yelled, waving his hand in a wide gesture as if Peter was on the other side of a large crowd rather than on the opposite end of one small section of a nearly silent library. “Come look at this!”

“Shhh!” Peter hissed, rushing over to Wade.

Wade bit his lip in what could almost be called a pout. “Just wanted to show you this,” he muttered, moving aside a few books to show a novel that had been shoved behind the row of books. “Thought you’d wanna sort it or something. Seemed like something nerdy you’d like to do.”

Peter reached forward and grabbed the book roughly. It was just a few shelves away from its proper place…

No, he decided resolutely. I won’t give Wade the satisfaction.

“It’s fine,” he said tightly, replacing the book on the shelf and turning to leave.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” Wade said, grabbing his shoulder. Peter stiffened both at the physical contact and the sincerity of the words.

Wade didn’t release him. “I’m sorry for ruining today,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I was just joking around.”

Peter turned around slowly, offering Wade a tentative smile. “It’s fine.”

A second passed. 

Peter reached forward, grabbed the novel off of the shelf, and hurried off to sort it with Wade’s laughter chasing him.


	9. The Pet Store

As the three boys returned to Peter’s apartment, Peter felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket. He hurriedly dug it out, his heart sinking as he saw that it was, indeed, a message from his tracking system. He didn’t bother to read it, knowing that it meant that somewhere in the city, a crime was being committed.

“I just thought of something I…have to…go do,” he said lamely, halting and tugging off his backpack. He pulled out the books that Ned, Wade, and himself had checked out from the library and handed them to his companions. “You guys take these home. I’ll be there in…an hour or so. Hopefully.”

“What are you doing?” Ned demanded, annoyance entering his voice at the prospect of being left alone with Wade.

Peter felt guilty for abandoning his best friend, especially with someone that Ned didn’t really like, but shot him a meaningful look, praying he would understand. With everything he knew, Ned should have known better than to question his actions in front of people who didn’t know about his secret identity. Which was everyone else in the world.

“I’m going to stop by the grocery store,” he answered slowly, cramming as much emphasis into the words as possible.

“I already went,” Wade reminded him, confused.

“I’m checking to see if they have a…spice,” Peter managed.

Wade nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. Ned’s eyes finally widened in realization.

“What’d you get at the library, Wade?” he asked hastily, turning and starting down the street at a good pace so that Wade would be forced to hurry after him.

Peter ducked down an alleyway as soon as both of them looked away, hoping that, if Wade were to look back, he would assume that Peter had simply disappeared into the crowd.

He grabbed his spidey suit and wasted no time in webbing his backpack high up enough on the wall of one of the buildings so that nobody could reach it - except for himself, of course. Then he changed and easily scaled the wall.

His phone relayed that there had been a 911 call from a nearby locally owned pet store. Why someone would steal from a pet store, Peter wasn’t sure, but he was going to stop them all the same.

Peter webbed his way across town, arriving at the scene of the crime only a few minutes after receiving the text. The police were already there, aiming their guns at the building. So I can’t take the front entrance, then.

Peter crouched low as he crept towards the store on a nearby rooftop. He didn’t want anyone to know that he had arrived - not yet.

Thankfully, the pet store had a back door that opened into a wide alley. Whoever the criminals were, they were inexperienced - this door was free of a barricade or guard.

Peter entered the building carefully. Although the criminals might have been amateurs, they could still be armed, and sometimes, amateurs were more dangerous than experts when armed.

Sure enough, when Peter peered from the small storage closet into the main room, he saw one thief standing before the large front window, a gun pressed to the temple of a sobbing teenage girl who had been working the register, based on her uniform. Another man was rummaging through the register about a foot away.

Peter burst into the room and immediately shot a web at the man holding the girl hostage. It knocked the gun from his hand, but he reacted quickly enough that he still had a grip on the girl, his hand free of webbing.

The man at the register was now alerted to Peter’s presence, but at the moment, the hero simply didn’t have time to care. The girl is the top priority.

He dashed toward the man, who was now strangling the girl in the crook of his arm. She was making terrible, sobbing, choking noises.

Just before Peter leapt to tackle him, the man released the girl, who collapsed to the floor, and ducked out of the way. Peter bent, tugged the girl to her feet, and kicked open the front door. He shoved the girl outside and shouted, “Go!” before turning back to the two robbers.

One man attempted to tackle Peter, but the teenager rolled to the side, stood up, and shot a glob of webbing towards the criminal within the span of a few seconds.

Somehow, the man dodged it.

Peter’s brow furrowed under his mask. What kind of people were these, who robbed a pet store so sloppily but had reflexes nearly as quickly as his own?

It didn’t matter. All that mattered at the moment was winning this battle, and Peter threw himself completely into the given task.

He engaged in a furious struggle, gaining no ground, for a good while before someone crashed in from the back room, temporarily stalling the action.

“Hola, bitches!” Deadpool whooped, hefting his guns high.

Spider-Man groaned. “Dammit…”

Before he could make a move, Deadpool shot one man in the stomach. He pointed his gun at the man who was currently staggering to his feet by the front window of the store, but Peter jumped in front of the gun before he could fire.

“Move, dude,” Deadpool commanded warningly.

Spider-Man turned quickly and shot webbing at the criminal, knocking him to the floor and pinning him there. “You can’t just shoot people!” he shouted, turning back to Deadpool.

“Why not?” Deadpool asked innocently, gesturing to the motionless man on the floor, blood pooling beneath him. “I just did.”

Peter strode across the room and grabbed Deadpool’s arm, tugging him into the alleyway behind the shop. Deadpool did nothing to stop him, but didn’t put his gun away, either.

Suddenly, before he could react, Peter pinned Deadpool to the alley wall with webbing and returned to the shop, the villain’s shouts following him.

Spider-Man exited the building via the front exit and was met by an overwhelming wave of cheers and cameras flashing. Ignoring them all, he crossed over to an ambulance, one that wasn’t caring for the teenage girl, who currently looked to be in shock.

“A man’s been shot,” he told the paramedics. As they nodded and hurried inside, Peter crossed over to the teenage girl. He didn’t recognize her, although she was his age - this area was outside of his school district.

“Holding up okay?” he asked gently. The girl nodded, turning her glazed gaze to him.

“You’re Spider-Man,” she said slowly.

Peter nodded in confirmation. “Yeah.”

“Thank you,” the girl said, starting to cry again. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” Peter told her softly, wincing in sympathy at the sight of the bruises already appearing around her neck. “I hope you’ll be okay.”

He reached down and hugged the girl tightly. Then, he returned to the shop, passing the paramedics who were quickly carrying out the shot criminal. As far as Peter could see, the man was still alive. He breathed a sigh of relief, the relief hardening to anger as he thought of the man who was responsible for that thief’s near death.

He stalked out into the back alley, where Deadpool was still pinned. “This stuff is strong!” the villain exclaimed cheerily, straining against the webbing.

Peter glared at him. “Listen closely,” he growled. “We need to talk.”


	10. Rooftop Invitation

“Are you supposed to be a superhero?” Peter demanded, crossing his arms expectantly.

Deadpool cocked his head to one side. “It depends on how you’d define ‘superhero,’ webslinger.” For once, he sounded deadly serious.

“I would identify ‘superhero’ as someone who doesn’t /murder/ people!”

Deadpool was silent for a moment before he gasped in realization. “Oh! You’re referring to the gas station!”

“Of /course/ I’m referring to the gas station! What else would I be talking about?” Peter squinted suspiciously at Deadpool. “What else did you do?”

“Nothing!” Deadpool replied defensively. There was a beat of silence before he admitted, “Okay, there were a few other things…”

Peter groaned in disbelief.

“Everyone I’ve ever killed is - was - a bad guy,” Deadpool hurried to explain. As if /that/ justified his actions.

“Heroes don’t kill people, regardless of who they are!”

“Okay. Say I catch a criminal and lock them up,” Deadpool began after a moment. “What if they escaped and hurt a lot more people, innocent people that I could have saved by ending the guy’s life?”

Spider-Man paused. Deadpool did have a point…

“No,” he said weakly, his voice gaining confidence as he talked. “Murder is /evil./”

Deadpool sighed. “Then how do /you/ propose I fight crime?”

Peter thought for a moment, then started to pace the alley before Deadpool. “Okay. Here’s a deal,” he said. “You work with me for a few cases - just two or three cases, that’s all I want - and try out /my/ methods. If you think they’re less effective than yours, then you’re free to do what you feel you need to. Otherwise, you’re a changed man and we both go home happy.”

“So at the end of our ‘partnership’,” Deadpool asked slowly, “if I decide to return to murdering criminals, you’ll really just let me do it?” He snorted disbelievingly, shaking his head slightly.

Peter paused. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” he decided after a tense moment of silence, although mentally, the bridge was, of course, already crossed. If he had caught Deadpool off-guard so easily right now, he was sure he could do it again - and send him straight to jail. “So? What do you say?”

Deadpool shrugged. “Sure. What do I have to lose?”

/Your freedom, if you don’t cooperate,/ Peter thought vengefully, but outwardly just nodded. He turned and began leaving the alleyway.

“Hey!” Deadpool called indignantly. “Come cut me down!”

Peter turned around, walking backwards as he held up his hands helplessly. “Sorry,” he replied innocently. “I don’t have anything sharp. It wears off in two hours, give or take.”

He turned back around and strolled off, smirking as Deadpool spat profanities behind him.  
*  
Once he was in his bedroom, Peter had time to think about what a bad idea this truly was. He hadn’t even gotten Deadpool’s contact information! He would just have to trust that the murderer would turn up at the next major crime scene.

And that the man would uphold his promise. /Sure, because he seems/ so /trustworthy./

Peter sighed, running a hand through his mussed hair and flopping backwards onto his bed. What was he doing with his life?

He would call Ned and talk it out. That would calm him down.

Someone knocked on his door and Wade opened it before Peter had a chance to give him permission to enter. “Hey,” he greeted him. “How goes it?”

Peter shrugged, continuing to stare at his ceiling. “Good, why?”

“Why’d you climb in through the window?” Wade asked casually without further preamble.

Peter’s mind froze as he grasped desperately at the first excuse that came to him. “I…like hanging out on the roof.”

Wade shrugged nonchalantly. “Cool. Let’s go up tonight.”

“What?”

“Stargazing, Parker. Heard of it?” Wade swept out of Peter’s room before he had time to answer. Peter stared after him disbelievingly.

Had Wade just asked him - ordered, actually - to /stargaze?/  
*  
Peter was certain Wade had forgotten about that incredibly strange conversation by the time that night rolled around, and had already changed into a plain white T-shirt and pajama bottoms when a sharp knock came at his bedroom door. He sighed irritably, slamming his laptop closed. “Come in.”

Wade was already opening the door. He was in similar pajamas, although they were a bit too small for him. It was rather distracting.

“Ready?” Wade asked. /He makes it sound like we’re going on a date or something,/ Peter thought wryly before pushing that idea from his mind.

“Sure,” he replied, trying to act as casual as possible as he crossed his room to push open the window. He climbed onto the fire escape outside and waited for Wade to join him. The metal trembled as the boy stepped onto it, but even if they did fall, Peter trusted his Spidey senses to save him, and his webbing (hidden beneath his sleeve) to save Wade.

They climbed up a short ladder to get to the roof. Peter had actually only been up here once or twice, when he needed to change into his Spidey suit and couldn’t do it in his bedroom, for whatever reason. He glanced around the plain concrete rooftop idly as he waited for Wade to join him.

“It’s nice up here,” Wade said, and Peter flinched at how close he was standing. “Nice view.”

Peter looked over the nearby buildings and caught his breath. Wade was wrong - it was an /amazing/ view. The nickname of a “city that never slept” was never proven truer than at night, when bright lights stood out among the shadows and car horns and sirens filled the air. The last sound still made Peter tense, but tonight, at least, he was going to let the police deal with any petty thefts or robberies that might be occurring. It was a decision he hoped he wouldn’t later come to regret.

“Now,” Wade said, “you wanna tell me what you’ve really been doing over the past few days?”


	11. Stargazing

Peter stared at Wade, speechless. “/What?/” he finally managed.

“When you climbed in through your window, you said you had been up on the roof,” Wade explained, “but /I/ come up here sometimes to clear my head and you’re never up here, even when you’ve randomly disappeared at the same time.” He crossed his arms. “What’s going on, Peter?”

Anger flared within Peter. Wade had no right to question him like this. “You’re not my aunt,” he muttered.

“No, I’m not. Frankly, she’s kinda clueless, so I’m stepping in for her,” Wade fired back, unmoving.

Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s normal for teenagers to…sneak out. I take the fire escape down to the street and just…go for walks. For the same reason you come up here - to clear my head.” He was rather surprised at how easily the lie rolled off of his tongue. Maybe all of the lies to May had changed something about him - when he was younger, he was a crappy liar.

Wade nodded slowly. “Okay,” he finally replied. “I can respect that.” As Peter sighed in relief, the other boy clapped his hands and dropped to the rooftop to sit in a criss-cross position, patting the concrete beside him. “Sit.”

Peter did so hesitantly, heart still racing from the fear prompted by the conversation they had just had. He made sure to sit a fair distance away from Wade as he lowered himself to the rooftop, still acutely aware of how close they were.

Wade was staring up at what few stars could be seen through the layer of pollution blanketing New York City. “I did this every night - looked at the stars - when I was sick,” he said thoughtfully, as if to himself.

Peter tensed. He had talked to Wade about his cancer exactly once, and that had been to ask why he continued coming to school. Since then, he hadn’t broached the topic because he didn’t feel close enough to the boy. Now, however, he could almost sense something in Wade opening - a wall crumbling down.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about it. 

“Your cancer?” he asked carefully.

Wade glanced over at him, nodding. “Yeah. Cancer’s a bitch, Peter. Hurts like hell.”

“How’d you…?” Peter trailed off timidly.

“Get rid of it? I got treatment,” Wade replied as if he was discussing the weather.

“No offense, but how did you…?”

“Afford it? No offense taken. My family’s dirt poor.” Wade’s voice, if possible, had gotten even lighter as he stared up at the stars. It was as if he /wanted/ to be talking about this. Then again, maybe he did. He didn’t have many friends at school - actually, he didn’t have any, now that Peter thought about it. Maybe he /needed/ someone to talk to about all of this.

“Anyway,” Wade continued, “I got free treatment. It was kind of experimental medicine - wasn’t even legal.”

“But it worked,” Peter offered, trying to hide his surprise at hearing that Wade’s cancer treatment had been illegal. Tonight, he wasn’t going to approach the ethics of that with a ten-foot stick.

“Yeah,” Wade said, his voice hinting that it was far more complicated than that. If there was more, however, he didn’t share it. Instead, he continued gazing silently at the night sky. Peter did the same, craning his neck to get a better view.

They sat in companionable silence for several minutes, no words passing between them simply because nothing needed to be said. For that moment, at least, Wade wasn’t homeless and Peter wasn’t Spider-Man.

It didn’t change the fact that Peter wanted to reach over and kiss Wade, wanted to do so desperately, but it was something.  
*  
Peter wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed until he found himself yawning so widely that his jaw popped.

“Time for bed,” Wade decided, chuckling, and stood. Peter nodded and joined him.

They stared at each other for a moment. Peter clenched his hands into fists at his sides, digging his fingernails into his palms to keep himself still. /Self control, Peter. Self control./

“This was nice,” Wade said quietly after several seconds of this tense silence. Peter just nodded, not trusting his voice.

“We should do it again,” Wade whispered, even softer than before. Then, abruptly, he turned and strode toward the ladder that would return them to Peter’s bedroom.

Peter let out a shaky sigh. /Was that a moment?/ he wondered, following Wade.

That night, he lay awake in his bed for quite some time. It felt like his life was spiraling out of control and he wasn’t sure how to make it stop or even slow it down. First his feelings for Wade…and now the agreement with Deadpool…

His thoughts kept returning to Wade rather than the larger problem, however. Did friends watch stars on their rooftops together? He supposed that some might, but then again, he couldn’t be sure. Whenever he and Ned had sleepovers, they always just hung out in his bedroom, and Ned was pretty much the only friend he had had since the beginning of middle school - since earlier, if he was being honest with himself.

Peter sighed, rolling onto his side and staring at his bedroom wall.

Tonight was going to be a sleepless one. That much was exhaustingly clear.  
*  
The next day, Peter was woken early by the sound of sirens and a strange crackling noise. He flew out of bed and was at his window within the span of a couple of seconds and almost before realizing he was moving.

The structure kitty-corner to his apartment building was aflame.

Some were still staggering out of it, choking and screaming. Peter’s throat constricted at the horrifying sight and he changed into his Spidey suit in mere seconds. He was out of the window before he could form any sort of plan.

/Deadpool, you’d better show up./ They would need his regenerative powers for this. Peter wasn’t even sure if the fire was the result of a crime, but people definitely were in danger, and that was all he needed to know.

He swung to the ground and started toward the burning building.


	12. The Fire

“Spider-Man!” someone called out as Peter approached and the cry was quickly repeated, growing into a chant along with claps and cheers from the ever-expanding crowd. Peter ignored them, scanning the building for the safest way in.

Finally, he sighed. No matter where he entered, he was going to get hurt.

He grabbed a passing firefighter by the shoulder. “Anyone still in the building?” he demanded, painfully aware of every passing second that they were losing.

“Third floor,” the firefighter answered, looking incredibly harried. “We think that’s where the fire started.”

Peter nodded and shot webbing at the wall of the building. A flame licked at the material and he watched in horror as his web snapped and melted.

“Shit,” he muttered, and before he could talk himself out of it, he dove through the front doors of the building.

The heat was incredible. It instantly sucked the moisture from his eyes and throat and Peter coughed, feeling like he was choking. He dropped to the floor to escape the worst of the thick, billowing smoke. His suit would offer some protection, but he doubted it would shield him from the worst of the flames.

Suddenly, someone grabbed him and pulled him upright. “What floor?” Deadpool shouted in his ear.

“Third,” he replied, too weak to struggle as Deadpool dragged him to the front door and threw him into the street. Peter stumbled, stepped away from the building, and watched desperately. How could Deadpool save whoever was in there? He felt so helpless, so useless - 

Screams sounded from the crowd and Peter looked up to see that a woman had been flung from one of the third-story windows.

“Deadpool!” he growled furiously, his reflexes instantly positioning him in the prime location to catch the woman. He wasted no time in carrying her to one of the many waiting ambulances, then dashing back to the burning building as a man was tossed out.

One by one, the survivors were thrown out of the building’s windows, flailing and screaming. Peter caught every single one without fail, delivering them safely to both the ground and medical help. One especially broke his heart - a little girl, maybe six or seven, whose golden curls were mostly burned off of her head. She was unconscious but still breathing - barely. He didn't know what she had been doing in what seemed to be an office building, based on how the survivors were dressed, but she couldn't have chosen a worse day to be there.

Finally, all of the survivors were safely out of the building. Peter searched the windows and doorway desperately. Where was Deadpool? Surely his regenerative abilities wouldn’t work if he was burned to ashes…

Then Deadpool’s charred body flung itself from the third story, and Peter caught him just in time.

He turned around, an unconscious Deadpool in his arms, and stared at the huge crowd of people who were gathered around him. The spectators started to applaud and cheer. He watched them for only a moment before throwing Deadpool over his shoulder so he had a free hand, turning, and shooting the building next to them with a string of webbing. He carried the anti-hero (or could he be labeled a hero now?) away from the fire with the cheers of a relieved crowd at his back.

Peter landed on a rooftop a few buildings away and placed Deadpool down carefully. The man was unmoving.

He bent and pressed an ear to Deadpool’s chest, listening desperately for a heartbeat. Nothing.

He tried frantically to remember what he had learned about CPR in school. He made a triangle with his pointer fingers and thumbs - was that right? Or was it - 

No. Deadpool didn’t have time for Peter’s uncertainty. Peter positioned his hands over the man’s chest, one on top of the other, and pressed down as hard as he could three times in a row, rapid-fire.

Honestly, he didn’t remember anything about CPR. He was just hoping Deadpool would revive himself before they had to progress to the mouth-to-mouth part.

He did chest compressions a few more times before he had to grudgingly admit that they weren’t going to work. He would have to try mouth to mouth.

He yanked up his mask just enough to reveal his mouth and did the same for Deadpool, pausing at the sight of his lips. How could a mouth look familiar…?

No. He didn’t have time to worry about that right now. Peter took a deep breath and was just about to press his mouth to Deadpool’s when the latter man sucked in a gasping breath and sat bolt upright.

Peter sighed in relief, sitting back on his heels. “Oh, thank God,” he muttered, watching uncertainly as Deadpool staggered to his feet and promptly collapsed again.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Deadpool shook his head, but it was as if he was trying to shake something out of his skull instead of replying negatively. “Ow,” he noted dryly. Then he glanced over at Peter. “Why is your mask…?” Suddenly, he raised a hand to his own mouth, realizing it, too, was exposed. He yanked it down, muffling his voice. “Did you…?”

“No. You woke up before I had to,” Peter replied.

Deadpool stared at him for a long moment. “Your voice…” he muttered, dazed.

“What about it?” Peter’s brow furrowed.

“It’s not muffled anymore.”

“So?”

Deadpool stared at him for another moment before shrugging nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Just an observation.” He stood, seeming strangely steady on his feet. /How good are his regenerative abilities?/ “Walk me home?”

Peter raised an eyebrow, a bit confused. “You’re going to let me see where you live?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Peter shrugged. After all, it wasn’t as if he was going to use the information to do anything bad to Wade or whoever he might be living with. “Lead the way.”


	13. Reveal

Peter was fairly certain he was going to vomit.

He had been carrying Deadpool so they could swing from building to building while the hero gave him directions. Now, they had arrived.

“Are you sure /this/ is where you live?” Peter asked slowly, glancing around the rooftop of his apartment building. Had he seriously had a murderous maniac living a rooftop above him this entire time?

“Actually, I live a floor below,” Deadpool replied casually. He grabbed his mask and yanked it off before Peter could process his words.

Peter physically staggered backwards as if he had been punched in the gut. He felt like reality was suddenly playing a cruel prank on him.

“/Wade?/” he breathed, staring into the other boy’s familiar face.

Wade nodded. “Surprise…/Peter./”

As if in a trance, Peter reached up and pulled off his own mask. It was over. Deadpool knew who he was. He knew who Deadpool was. Deadpool was /Wade./ “Holy shit,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair and turning away. He felt lightheaded, and nausea turned his stomach. All this time…

“Sorry for not telling you sooner, but I didn’t know who you were at first,” Wade explained apologetically. “Your suit changes your voice - muffles it. When you were talking with your mask pulled up earlier - that was when I realized.”

Peter nodded distantly. “You’re Deadpool.” His voice was remarkably calm. 

Wade laughed. “This - this isn’t really easy for me, either. I mean, you’re /Spider-Man./ /Peter Parker/ is Spider-Man.”

Peter whirled around to face Wade. “You can’t tell /anyone./” His voice was desperate, pleading. He hated being at the mercy of a boy who he now knew was completely insane. A murderer. And he had been /sleeping on Peter’s couch!/

Wade crossed his arms defensively. “What made you think I would? Nobody can know about me, either, or I would be arrested,” he pointed out, gesturing to his own suit. “I’ve /killed/ people, Peter.”

Peter groaned at this reminder, dropping into a steadying crouch as the world started to spin disconcertingly. This was awful, way worse than when Ned had discovered his secret. Peter’s mind was frantically dissecting the past few days, all of the pieces - Wade’s strange disappearances, his comment about coming up to the roof to “clear his head” - falling into place.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Wade said softly. Then, he said as if to himself, “Jesus Christ! /Peter Parker/ is Spider-Man!”

“What /happened/ to you?” Peter demanded, standing and turning to face him. “Honest answer, full story. Go.”

Wade blinked at him. “Um,” he started, then stopped.

“/Now./” Peter’s lips thinned.

“Okay, okay. My family’s absolute shit,” Wade hastily explained, “as I’m sure you’ve realized.”

Peter nodded silently.

“They couldn’t afford cancer treatment, not that they would have spent the money if they had it. I was prepared to die without ever having visited another doctor. Then this…guy found me.” Wade stopped and took a deep breath as if to steady himself. “He promised me these…these amazing powers. And I didn’t have to pay or anything because it was an experiment. They wanted test subjects that badly. I was so desperate, so scared…I agreed.” He shut his eyes briefly.

“The treatment was…awful, to say the least. It wasn’t government mandated and, like I said, it was highly illegal, so the dudes running the place could treat their inmates - us - however they wanted. Yeah, I guess we /were/ technically inmates. We weren’t allowed to leave, after all, and we were tortured. So brutally, Peter…”

Peter shivered at the dark tone in Wade’s voice and the distant look in his eyes. What had /happened/ to him at this strange facility?

“It was all to make this recessive gene - well, I won’t bore you with the science” - Wade glanced at him and grinned slightly, humor flickering weakly in his eyes - “although I’m sure you of all people wouldn’t mind it. Anyway, when it was all over, I was…I was superhuman. I had regenerative powers, super strength, agility, precision - the works. I went back home and - and now I’m just trying to use my powers for good. And if some bad people have to die while I’m doing that, so be it.” His voice had taken on a steely quality that, frankly, terrified Peter.

He took a deep breath. He knew what he had to do. “Wade…”

Wade glanced at him, waiting.

“Will you work with me?”

“/Work/ with you?” Wade’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah. Fighting crimes in a…not-murdery way. If it can be at all helped.”

Wade was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Sure,” he finally decided, a slow smile spreading over his face, and Peter’s heart lifted. “What do I have to lose? I don’t have a home, after all.”

Peter summoned the last of his courage. “Yes,” he replied, “you do.”

Wade smiled at him, a genuine smile. “Thank you, Peter.”

Peter nodded and, before he could do something stupid, he walked to the edge of the building and crawled down into his bedroom. Wade came down in a few minutes and retreated to his living room bed without even glancing at Peter.  
*  
Peter was so tired and aching from his minor burns that he didn’t bother to change out of his Spidey suit for quite some time. Instead, he sat on the edge of his bed, thinking. Processing.

Finally, he crossed his room to the full-length mirror and stared at himself, pulling off his mask slowly. “I am working with Wade Wilson. I am working with Deadpool,” he whispered. A slow grin spread over his face. Was this his life? He would have to tell Ned all about all of it - evidently, he was good about keeping superhuman secrets.

For now, however, he had to change.

He stripped out of his suit and pulled on a pair of jeans. Every movement hurt, forcing him to change slowly, and he could see angry red patches on his arms and chest where he had been singed. They would be hell to cover up from Aunt May, but he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

His door creaked open and he turned nervously, expecting Aunt May to be in the doorway, asking what he wanted for dinner, her eyes widening as she took in his injuries.

Instead, Wade leaned against the doorframe, watching him with an unfathomable expression in his eyes.

“Hey.” Peter said uncertainly, fingers itching to grab a shirt from the floor. Something stopped him.

Wade took a step into Peter’s room and swung the door shut behind him. Before Peter could ask what he was doing, Wade had crossed the room, grabbed Peter’s shoulders, and kissed him.

Peter gasped, drawing back instinctively in surprise before letting himself relax into the kiss. It wasn’t gentle or sweet. Ut was desperate, furious. Peter’s heart was racing furiously. He grabbed Wade’s biceps to keep himself from collapsing, as lightheaded as he felt. Wade just kissed him harder.

Finally, one of them pulled away - Peter wasn’t sure who. Wade rested his forehead on Peter’s. Both boys were panting for breath.

“Oh,” Peter whispered, his brain empty of all coherent thoughts except his shock.

“Agreed,” Wade replied huskily, chest heaving.

“Boys?” Aunt May called from the living room. “What do you want for dinner?”

Wade pushed himself away from Peter and strolled out of the latter’s bedroom, starting a casual conversation with May as he did so. Peter stared after him, still gasping for air.

He collapsed backwards onto his bed, a huge smile spreading over his face. Maybe his life /was/ a mess. Maybe Deadpool /had/ killed people. Maybe he /was/ in over his head with it all.

But at least he could figure it out with Wade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was, in my first draft of the story, the final chapter. However, having re-read the story, I don't think this ending is fitting. So I'm going to be writing entirely new chapters for this! I'm not sure how much longer the story will be, but I do know that updates will probably be a little less frequent, or I might go through really active times before falling silent for a week or two. Rest assured that I will not be abandoning this story until it is completely finished!! Thank you to everyone who has left kudos and for all of the heartwarming comments - you guys are the reason that the story does not end here :)


	14. The Conversation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My cousin texted me out of the blue that she hated people who shipped Spiderman and Deadpool...but I did some crisis work and got her to admit that she was fine if people shipped the comic book versions of the heroes, but not the movie versions.
> 
> So disclaimer: the only reason I'm using a modified version of the movie Spiderman is because I know that version of him the best. I am using an alternate universe version of COMIC BOOK Deadpool, however, who is the same age as Peter. I kind of said this in the beginning, but I wanted to reiterate that Wade Wilson, in this fanfic, is NOT the cinema version. If he was, he would be more disturbed and sexual, after all, and I don't think that'd be okay to ship with a sixteen-year-old character.
> 
> Just wanted to put that out there :)

Dinner was probably the most painful meal that Peter had ever sat through.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected from Wade. A personality change of some sort? Something to indicate that their kiss had shaken him just as deeply as it had Peter?

Instead, halfway through their awkwardly silent meal, Peter felt something nudge his ankle. He didn’t think anything of it at first - maybe Wade had accidentally kicked him - when he felt the foot trace a lazy path up his calf. He choked on his food in his surprise, dropping his fork and coughing. Wade retracted his foot, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his face.

“Peter, sweetie, you okay?” Aunt May asked, concerned, as she reached over to rub her nephew’s back. Peter nodded, eyes watering.

As soon as he had recovered enough, Wade’s foot was back. The other boy just smiled into his food, as if nothing was wrong, as Peter struggled to breathe.

He finished dinner as quickly as he could and escaped to his bedroom, shutting the door tightly behind him. Grabbing his phone, he climbed out the window and called Ned, his shaking fingers missing the button a few times. He sat down on the gridlocked metal of the fire escape, leaned against the cool brick of his apartment building, and silently begged Ned to answer.

Just when he was about to give up and return to his room, Ned picked up. “Hey, Peter.”

All coherent words fled Peter. How could he even explain this to his friend? Ned would just tell him that it was a bad idea, that Peter had to end it…But when Peter thought of the kiss, ending it sounded like the worst possible idea.

“There has been a slight situation,” he finally said, his voice sounding strange and strangled even to his own ears.

“Okay, just as long as you didn’t make out with Wade,” Ned jokingly replied.

Peter said nothing.

Ned said nothing.

Peter rubbed his eyes with his pointer finger and thumb, still saying nothing.

“Peter. Peter? Peter. Oh my god. Peter? Did you - tell me you didn’t - ” There was a slight commotion from Ned’s end and then a door slamming - he had probably moved into his bedroom for more privacy. “ _ Did you make out with Wade? _

“Maybe just a little,” Peter replied weakly.

“ _ Peter. _ ”

“I know, I know! It wasn’t like I meant for it to happen! It just sort of…did.”

“And…?"

“And what?”

“And how are we feeling about it?”

Peter sighed a long, blustery sigh, mainly just to gain himself a few extra seconds before having to reply. “We’re feeling good. We’re feeling really good. But bad, too, I guess. And scared? Yeah, scared.”

“Do you need me to come over intervention-style?”

“No, Wade’ll know what I’m doing. I just…I don’t know why I called.”

“Because I’m your best friend and official life coach” - Peter tried to say something - “shut up, Peter, and I am here to help you. So, what’s your next move?”

“Oh, god. What  _ is  _ my next move?” Was this hyperventilating? Peter was pretty sure this was hyperventilating. “We  _ live  _ together, Ned! With my  _ aunt! _ ”

“That is pretty bad,” Ned murmured. Then, he raised his voice, as if remembering Peter was still on the phone. “Talk to him, I guess?”

“How would I even start that conversation?” Peter thunked his head back against the concrete and groaned.

“I don’t know. You know I’ve never been in a relationship. On TV, they always go through a little bit of awkwardness, then have a conversation in which one person says something that gets wildly misconstrued, and then they have a week-long fight before making up, having sex, and having their happily-ever-after.”

“I don’t think that’s the path I want to take.”

“Watch some ‘Friends,’ dude. It works for all of them.”

“Ned!”

“Sorry, sorry. I honestly don’t know, Peter. I’m sure you’ll think of something, though. You’re Spider-Man, for God’s sake.”

“Unless I can web the awkwardness away, I don’t see how that could help me.”

Ned was silent for a moment and Peter heard distant shouting on the other end of the call. Then, Ned returned. “Sorry, my mom needs to yell at me about something I probably didn’t do. I have to go. Good luck, Peter!”

Peter sighed as his phone beeped, signaling the end of the call. He let it fall into his lap and dropped his head into his hands. Ned was a great guy, but Peter was pretty sure he was blissfully unaware of how panic-inducing this entire situation was for Peter. After all, not only was there the fact that Wade was Deadpool - a murderer - but Peter had a chaotic life of his own. He had his aunt to think of, who didn’t even know he was gay, and there was the fact that Peter had never had a relationship before. Not with a girl, not with a guy - not with anybody. Was Wade really first-relationship material?

He couldn’t stay on the fire escape forever, though - 

Wait. Was that an option?

_ Suck it up, Parker. _

He forced himself to his feet and re-entered his bedroom. Peeking outside, he saw that Wade and Aunt May were watching television together. It was at that specific moment that Wade happened to glance over and make eye contact with Peter. His eyebrows raised slightly and he stood, hurrying towards Peter. Peter tried to control the conflicting emotions that he felt upon Wade’s approach and remained in the doorway, blocking the entrance. He wasn’t sure he was ready to be alone with Wade again. At least, not completely alone.

“Hey,” Wade greeted him with one of those grins that always made Peter’s heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” Peter replied.

“Knowing you, you’ve been overthinking what happened ever since it happened. So do you wanna talk about it?”

Peter had no idea how to respond. He made a small noise that could have meant yes or no. Wade, being Wade, chose to interpret it as the former.

“Listen, I’m sorry I just…did that without any sort of warning or anything. But I just…I’ve kind of…had a crush on you for a while. But with the whole…with the whole Deadpool thing, I just didn’t know how to let myself get close to anyone. But now you know - you know everything! Jesus, Peter, that’s such a relief.”

Peter held up a hand to stop him and tried not to notice the hurt that flashed over Wade’s eyes. “Hold on. I know that you’re Deadpool, yeah, but I can’t exactly say that I’m okay with it.” He was calm - so calm. How was he being so calm? Wade had just admitted to having a  _ crush _ on him! “How did this happen?” He had so many questions, but this seemed like a good place to start.

“Remember how I said that my cancer treatment was illegal?” Peter nodded. “Most people don’t even survive the process. I have no idea how - why - I did. But I - I’ve been around bad people my entire life.” Dripping sarcasm entered his voice. “I don’t know if I’ve mentioned, but I have shitty parents. They were always bringing bad people home, putting me in danger. Sometimes, I felt so insanely helpless - and then I got my powers, and I already knew how to work a gun, and the pieces just kind of fell into place. I had a chance to stop those people. I had a chance to keep them from hurting anyone else ever again.”

“But _ murder _ , Wade?  _ Murder? _ ”

“It’s the simplest solution. You know how corrupt our government is. And the justice system barely deserves to be called that. Innocent people are locked up for years while terrible people walk free. It’s my job to ensure that those terrible people actually get what’s coming to them. I’m basically karma.”

What he was saying made sense, Peter had to give him that. After all, there were countless stories of the wrong people being convicted, getting years if not decades of their lives stolen from them. Not to mention the many, many criminals who still roamed the Earth because of technicalities or a lack of funds to pursue their arrest. Plus, while Peter usually dealt in clear-cut robberies and arson cases, it sounded like Wade handled more complex situations. It would make sense not to rely on the police in those cases…right?

“I’m going to be completely honest,” Peter whispered, deciding to lay everything out on the table. “I’m afraid for my aunt because of you. And I’m not sure that I can trust you. I mean, who are you really? The guy who wakes up early to make us pancakes or the guy who puts on a red suit and kills people?”

“I’m both, Peter, and I know where both halves of me belong. All my anger, all my frustration and guilt and pain, I get to express while I’m out there, taking people down. In here, I can just… _ be _ . I can be a normal teenager. Well, a normal teenager who’s homeless and crashing on your couch.”

Peter was wavering. His morals told him that murder was wrong, but was  _ all _ murder wrong? Murder over a discrepancy or gang loyalties - that was wrong, for sure. Murder over actual crimes and the failure of the police department? That seemed better. And it really sounded like Wade had gotten this all figured out.

Plus, Peter didn’t want to lose Wade. Not right now, not when everything he wanted was falling into place.

He sighed, uncrossing his arms and letting them fall to his sides. “I guess…I guess I can live with that. No more deceptions, though, okay? You have to tell me where you’re going and when you’re going there. If you think it’s too dangerous or I wouldn’t be able to handle it, I won’t go - but I don’t want to think you’re on the roof or interviewing for a job when you’re actually…being Deadpool.”

Wade considered this for a moment before holding out his hand for a handshake. “You have yourself a deal.”

Gratefully, Peter stepped forward and accepted Wade’s hand. Before he could react, however, Wade laced their fingers together, walked the both of them backwards until they were hidden from view of the living room, and tugged Peter closer, pressing their lips together. Peter gasped slightly, still unused to the sensation.

He moved closer to Wade, his eyes fluttering shut, his heart pounding so loud that he was sure Wade could hear it.

Ned was going to  _ kill _ him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IMPORTANT!!  
> Because there was confusion...
> 
> THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE BOOK
> 
> Updates are just painfully slow :)  
> Sorry for anyone who had their hearts broken when they thought this was over... :( But it's not! I'm still writing it!!


	15. Ned's Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WADE WILSON IS 6'2" AND PETER PARKER IS 5'10" I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW DEAR LORD I LOVE HEIGHT DIFFERENCES
> 
> Also I had forgotten about a traumatic experience I had a couple years ago where my friend found out that I wrote fanfiction and she told a friend of hers and she forgot but her friend DIDN'T even though we didn't see each other for TWO YEARS and the guy walks up to me and goes "hey! don't you write creepy fanfiction?" and my friend was so confused and I flat out lied and was like "hahahahaha you've got me all wrong buddy" but I think they only found some of my early work from when I was like eleven, which was when I was pure and didn't even write kiss scenes lol. sorry for the mini rant but fanfic is my closely guarded secret and tbh I would DIE if someone from real life found out that I wrote it

When the kiss finally ended, there was nothing to pull them apart, send them on their separate ways like last time. It was just Peter and Wade, breathing heavily in the middle of the bedroom.

Peter was suddenly hit by a wave of anxiety - not that several smaller waves hadn’t been bombarding him for the last few hours. He had never been in a relationship before. What if he was a terrible kisser? What if Wade was only in this for fun or a distraction? How could someone even tell if they were being used like that? What should he say now?

What was he  _ doing? _

“You okay?” Wade asked with concern, his gaze roaming Peter’s face.

_ Crap _ . The boy was better at reading emotions than Peter had given him credit for.

“Just…thinking. About a lot.”

Wade barely smiled, one corner of his mouth tugging up ever so slightly. It took Peter’s breath away. “Like what?”

He was so close that his breath stirred Peter’s hair. Peter was struck again by how  _ short _ he was compared to Wade. He was tempted to take a step back just to feel a little taller, but at the same time, he wanted to remain right here, in this limbo stage with Wade.

Just then, Peter’s phone began buzzing violently on his bedside table, saving him from answering Wade’s question. He wasn’t sure he wanted this boy to view him as the insecure mess he truly was. Not just yet.

He hurried across the room and saw that he was getting a call from Ned. Answering it and turning away from Wade, he hissed, “Now’s not a really good time, Ned.”

“I’m outside your door.”

“Ned, what are you  _ doing _ here?”

“Peter, we’ve been friends for long enough that I know you’re going all nine kinds of crazy right now. And, oh my god, you made out with freaking  _ Wade Wilson _ .” A pause. Suspicion entered his voice. “Wait…did I interrupt - ?"

“I’ll come get you!” Peter exclaimed hurriedly, hanging up before Ned could finish his sentence.

“Shame,” Wade murmured, watching him cross the room with some strange look in his eyes that did nothing to calm the flush in Peter’s cheeks. He couldn’t look Aunt May in the eyes as he passed her. Luckily, she was settling down for some innocent television watching and seemed to be none the wiser, barely even acknowledging her nephew as he passed.

Peter swung open his door and was greeted by a wide-eyed Ned. “Let’s  _ talk _ ,” his best friend hissed, grabbing him and dragging him into the hallway, slamming the door to his apartment as he did so.

“There’s not really much to talk about,” Peter tried weakly as he was rushed down the hallway. “This is the fastest you’ve willing moved in  _ years _ . You can’t seriously be pissed at me for - ”

“For making out with Wade?” Ned raised his eyebrows.

“ _ Shhhhh! _ ” Peter begged, glancing furtively around. If one of his neighbors had heard that…but luckily, it was late enough that the apartment building had quieted down.

Ned was obediently quiet until they were seated on the steps leading into the apartment building, munching on toasted nut cones from a nearby food cart. “Tell me everything,” he finally demanded.

“I don’t think you want to know  _ everything _ ,” Peter reminded him, raising his eyebrows.

“Jesus,” Ned muttered. “Okay. You know which parts to gloss over. Go.”

Peter thought for a moment. How to explain to Ned that Wade was Deadpool? He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like revealing their deepest secrets on the roof after that fire was part of the reason Wade had kissed Peter in the first place. 

But he would just have to play dumb. It wasn’t his place to reveal Deadpool’s identity, after all, especially since he was still struggling with his own feelings on the morality of the situation.

“There was some weird tension between us for a few days - ”

“ - sexual tension, yes - "

“Ned, I swear to  _ god _ \- ”

“Sorry. Continue.”

“Anyway, a few hours ago, he just walked into my room and flat-out kissed me. Then during dinner he was, like, messing with me underneath the table - ” At Ned’s horrified expression, Peter winced. “That came out really wrong. What I mean was, he was like…his foot was…touching…my leg? Wow, okay, there’s no good way to say that.”

Ned’s horrified expression had not abated.

“Then he kissed me again right before you called.”

Ned said nothing. He didn’t even blink. Peter was worried his face had frozen that way and hesitantly waved a hand in front of his best friend’s eyes. “Ned? I really, really need your support here, buddy. I’m kind of freaking out.”

“Of course you’re freaking out!” Ned suddenly exploded, causing Peter to jump. He sighed. “Sorry. I just needed to get that out of my system. Well, I guess first thing’s first. Do you like this guy?”

“Yes,” Peter replied immediately.

“No, I mean  _ like _ like him. Like, willing to have a serious romantic relationship with him.”

Peter took a second to mull this over before shrugging and nodding. “I think so, yeah.”

“You  _ think _ so or you  _ know _ so?”

“What is this, Ned, a police investigation?”

“Shut up and answer the question.” Ned narrowed his eyes in a way that was probably supposed to be menacing but just made Peter fight back a smile.

“Okay, yeah. I wanna date Wade, if that’s what you’re asking."

“And how does he feel?”

“There hasn’t been much talking, really. There’s just been mostly…” Peter raised his eyebrows meaningfully and Ned fake gagged.

“Okay, okay. I get the picture. Well, that’s the first step. Talking to him.”

Peter’s stomach revolted. “That sounds awful.”

“Well, suck it up and go tell him how you feel.”

“This whole thing started a few hours ago. Isn’t it a little soon?”

“This week is the first week that you two have ever talked with more than a few words and now you’re making out in your bedroom. Oh, and have I forgotten that  _ you live with him!” _

“Point taken,” Peter grumbled. He and Ned sat in silence for a few seconds as they finished their treats. “Thanks for being here for me, man. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d probably suffer.” Ned shot him a grin and stood, crumpling his empty paper cone and tossing it into a nearby garbage can. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“I won’t,” Peter replied, hoping it was a promise he could keep. He bade his friend goodbye before turning around to face his apartment building and taking a deep breath.

He could do this. He  _ would _ do this. He was Spider-Man. This was nothing. This was just relationship stuff.

_ But you’ve fought criminals before _ , his brain whispered.  _ You’ve never had a relationship _ .

He groaned, running a hand over his face.  _ I am about ready to beat my own ass _ .

Peter forced his legs to start working and began the trek back up to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wimpy-ass chapter. I promise exciting relationship developments in the next one!! I just felt like I had kept you guys waiting for too long so I churned this one out. Quality above quantity from here on out, I promise!!


	16. First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll have you know that I SUFFERED FOR THIS...I was exhausted and my back ached but I was like "screw it, all these people have been leaving such nice comments that imma write them a chapter"
> 
> there's something big coming in the next few chapters ;)
> 
> also I'm a wee bit sleep deprived can you tell lol
> 
> ALSO also if anyone's still reading I'm kinda interested so tell me in the comments...have you ever shipped/are you shipping Deadpool with anyone else? cause I heard Cablepool is a thing and tbh I'm not complaining, but Spideypool will always be my favorite Deadpool ship

Wade was lounging on the couch when Peter came in, Aunt May sitting beside him. They were chatting about the news story on TV, which didn’t involve any crime or danger. Peter had a habit of checking for those sorts of stories whenever the TV was on.

“Hey, Peter,” Wade greeted him casually.   
“Hey. Uh, can we talk?”

Aunt May glanced over, momentarily interested by this classically layered phrase, but returned to watching the program as Peter led Wade back into his bedroom, swinging the door resolutely shut behind them.

“How’s Ned doing?” Wade asked casually, toying with the Newton’s cradle. It seemed to fascinate him just as much as when he had first found it.

“Ned? Oh, he’s fine. He’s great. Can we - can we talk about…us?” Peter tried not to cringe at how cliche that sounded.

Wade didn’t seem to notice. In fact, his expression turned as serious as Peter had ever seen him be. “Sure.”

“Okay.” Peter took a deep breath and let out all his thoughts in a rambling rant, his gaze fixed on his bedroom floor. “I’ve never been in a relationship with anyone before so this is all sort of uncharted territory for me. I didn’t even realize I was…I liked guys until a year or two ago. And I’ve liked you for a while, but I just feel like this is more casual to you than it is to me. I’m taking this more seriously than I probably should but I feel like you’re so much more experienced and you seem to be so cool about everything…I just need to know. Am I just amusement to you or do you actually like me?”

Wade’s mouth had fallen open slightly during this monologue. Peter only knew this because he kept shooting nervous glances at him, each one making his stomach churn more than the last. He was terrified of Wade’s response.

The boy crossed the room and hooked a finger under Peter’s chin, raising his face so he could meet his gaze. “Listen to me, ‘cause I’m only gonna say this once,” he whispered. “Can’t be going all emotional, now, can I?” A smile tugged at his lips. “Peter, I’ve wanted to be with you ever since I laid eyes on you. And sure, I’m more experienced, but it was because - hell, it was because I figured you were into girls and I had to get over you. And then my cancer - everything got in the way of me ever making a move. But I am not messing around here. You’re not just for amusement or whatever the hell you think you are. I want to  _ be  _ with you, Peter. For real. I wanna stand closer than necessary on the subway and go to movies and walk in Central Park - I wanna be a couple. So I guess the only question left is…what do you want?”

Peter could barely breathe. He felt like he might swoon or have a heart attack or both. He had had no idea…he couldn’t have known…but he still felt awful for assuming Wade was as shallow as he had thought him to be.

Not to mention that he could hardly believe his dreams were coming true.

“Yes,” he murmured in reply after several seconds had passed. “I want that, too.”

Wade let out a breath, tension draining from his body. “You could have answered a little sooner,” he replied, but there was joy in his voice. He kissed Peter, gentle and lingering, before pulling him into a hug.

Peter stretched up on his tiptoes to rest his head on Wade’s shoulder. His heart was beating so quickly that he was worried it would burst through his chest.

He was getting everything he wanted. His dreams were coming true.

He had a boyfriend.  _ Wade _ was his boyfriend. Peter could hardly believe it.

But it was real. And it wasn’t going away anytime soon.

*

After their heart-to-heart, Wade got surprisingly matter-of-fact.

“I’m not going to rush you, but let me know when you plan on coming out to May. Because I’m guessing that she won’t love the idea of me living here after you tell her about us. So I’m going to start looking for apartments when you decide you’re gonna tell her. Aw, crap, I still actually need a job. Also, does Ned know about all of this? I’m assuming Ned knows. Judging by his strange side eye and all the hushed conversations you’ve been having…yeah, he knows.”

“Wade, can you slow down?” Peter finally asked tightly.

Wade did so literally, glancing over at Peter with wide eyes. “What?”

“This is all moving really fast. I hadn’t even considered coming out to May yet.”

“Shit. I’m sorry.” Wade hurried over to Peter and sat beside him on the bottom bunk. “I just...I’m really excited, to be honest.”   
“I am, too, don’t get me wrong. Maybe we could start small? Like a date.” The idea of being seen in public with another boy was terrifying, but Peter had no better ideas.

“Sure. Does tomorrow work?”

“It’s summertime and Ned’s my only friend.”

“Tomorrow it is! What do you wanna go do?”

“Um…I don’t know. Any of the things you were talking about earlier sounded nice.”

Wade grinned brightly and Peter felt his heart skip a beat. “Then let’s do all of them.”

*

There was nobody else in their subway car except for an elderly, dozing woman, a young man glued to his phone, and a family of tourists whose children were eagerly chatting about the Statue of Liberty.

Wade grabbed the overhead bar and Peter, right behind him, reached up to do the same. The subway train started moving just as he did, however, and despite his years of using the transport, he stumbled, falling into Wade. The boy laughed, grabbing his shoulder with his free hand.

Peter felt cold fear trickling through his system and hoped Wade hadn’t felt him tense. He was sure that the elderly woman would wake up and tell them to go to hell…he could feel the young man’s phone camera pointed at his back…the parents of those kids would be steering their children away…

He glanced up at Wade and their eyes met. Wade’s lips curved upwards in the faintest smile. He was radiating pure joy.

And right then, Peter realized that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought. All that mattered was his happiness, Wade’s. It was their first date, and he’d be damned if it didn’t go perfectly.

He wrapped an arm around Wade’s waist and leaned into him. He felt Wade’s breath moving his hair ever so slightly and sighed contentedly.

Yes. This felt right.

*

Wade had chosen an action movie, and they slipped into their seats just as the theater darkened and the trailers began to play.

“We should go see that,” Wade leaned over to whisper every time a new trailer came on, regardless of the content or quality.

“Why do you want to see all of these?” Peter finally hissed in reply, grinning with bemusement.

Wade shrugged. “Even if they weren’t good, we’d be able to make fun of them together.”

The thought made the movies much more appealing. Peter nodded in agreement and settled back as the movie began to play.

A few minutes in, he felt Wade reach over and grab his hand, gently tracing the back of it with his thumb. When the first fight scene came on-screen, Wade tightened his grip on Peter’s hand. Peter glanced over to find that Wade was staring raptly at the screen.

From then out, it was difficult to focus on the movie. After all, since it was an action movie, Wade’s hand tightened quite a bit, and every time Peter felt the signal, he couldn’t help but peer out of the corner of his eyes at Wade. 

It was far more enjoyable to watch Wade watching the movie than it was to actually watch the movie, anyway.

*

The afternoon was growing old when they made it to Central Park. “We have to be home for dinner or Aunt May will freak,” Peter told Wade as they strolled the winding paths.

“Sure thing.” Wade gasped as a woman walking a large, fluffy dog came down the path in front of them. “Ma’am, could I pet your dog?”

Peter watched, a fond smile playing with his lips as his boyfriend (the words still filled him with joy) bent to play with the dog. He remembered how he used to view Wade - as a muscled, bordering-on-lunatic stranger. That same muscled, bordering-on-lunatic stranger was currently laughing with pure, childish joy as the dog eagerly licked his face. Peter bent down to say hello to the delighted creature.

“You guys are a cute couple,” the woman complimented them, grinning, as they stood to leave.

“Thank you,” Wade replied, while Peter was so taken aback that he couldn’t talk. “Your dog is wonderful.” He grabbed Peter’s hand and led him down the path.

“She was nice,” Peter murmured, still surprised.

“Most people are. You just can’t hear them over the chaos of the bad ones,” Wade replied casually.

“How are you so…brave about this?” Peter asked hesitantly, gesturing vaguely to themselves.

Wade glanced down at him and shrugged. “I know what I want, and I don’t care what others think of me while I have it.”

“I wish I could view the world like you,” Peter said, regret tinging his voice.

Wade bit his lip and shook his head slowly, his hand tightening around Peter’s. “No. You don’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw I'm counting that as like a real chapter despite how short it was since there was important relationship-building content and shit
> 
> BUT you can be expecting longer chapters shortly


	17. Botched Teamwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> guess whos been binge watching youtube and playing the sims instead of writing........THIS BITCH
> 
> Imma try my best to do weekly updates, I really am!!

“Did you boys have a nice time out?” Aunt May asked as Peter and Wade came through the door of the apartment.

“Yeah,” Peter said, exchanging a grin with Wade. “We did.”

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and tugged it out quickly, praying it was just a text message from Ned.

No such luck. A police scanner was picking up a robbery a few blocks over.

Wade scanned the message over his shoulder, nodded quickly, and hurried into Peter’s bedroom. Peter was quick to follow.

“Meet me on the roof,” Wade commanded as he scrambled out of the window and onto the fire escape. Peter grabbed his spidey suit from the floor and began struggling into it.

In a matter of minutes, both boys were on the roof. “How are you supposed to get down?” Peter asked Wade. Wade grinned and held out his arms hopefully, fingers clenching and unclenching like he was a child. Peter sighed, but returned the smile.

“Get on my back. It’ll be easier for me to control my webs.”

He walked to the edge of the building and Wade wrapped his arms around him from behind. Peter took a moment to revel in the feeling - to remember that Wade Wilson was his  _ boyfriend _ \- before shooting webbing to the next building and taking off. Wade’s arms tightened around his torso as they flew through the air, his legs raising to wrap around Peter’s waist.

They soon arrived at the crime scene and set down in a nearby alleyway. “Okay,” Peter said quietly. “We need a plan.”

“I prefer not to have plans. Let’s just barge in there and fuck some people up,” Wade replied, tugging a gun out of its holster and checking it.

“What? No! Wade! You are not  _ shooting _ anyone!”

“I’ll shoot who I have to shoot.”

Peter crossed his arms and stared him down.

“Okay, can I shoot someone if it’s nonlethal?”

“How can you be sure of that?”

“Trust me, my aim’s good enough.”

Peter was silent for another moment before sighing and giving in. “Fine. Let’s go.”

They ran towards the building, dodging the growing crowd of intrigued civilians and hopeful news reporters. Shouts rose to screams as the sight of the super and anti-hero were caught, and the cameras started flashing.

“Spider-Man!” Peter heard time and time again as he dashed up the steps and into the - yup, it was a bank.

_ Every once in a while it’s nice to mix it up _ , he thought, irritated at the bare banality of villains these days.  _ Like those guys from the pet store - that was confusing, at least _ .

Wade shoved open the doors, immediately leveling his weapons at the people directly inside. They turned out to be hapless hostages, however, who promptly burst into tears. Wade moved on.   
“Sorry about that, so sorry,” Peter murmured to them as he followed his boyfriend, searching desperately for the perpetrators. He couldn’t find them in the main area.

“Underground - the vaults!” a woman shouted, and Wade flashed her a thumbs up as he located the staircase. Peter swung over to him and clattered down the stairs right behind him.

Sure enough, there were three masked men, all armed with sawed-off shotguns, all incredibly pissed at the boys’ arrival. When they moved, they revealed a man huddled behind them, tears and snot running down his face.

“Watch the hostage!” Peter shouted to Wade as he swung into action. He immediately took out one of the guys by webbing him to a wall and calmly removed his shotgun from his hand as he struggled.

Wade took care of another man by smashing him to the floor. The man tried shooting Wade as he fell, but the shot went wide and hit the wall behind him. Peter didn’t see blood under the now-unconscious man’s head and decided to believe that the criminal was still alive. He didn’t have time to question Wade’s methods right now.

The final man pressed his shotgun to the hostage’s temple, widening his stance as if to physically shield the bags of money on the ground behind him. “Don’t move or I shoot,” he snarled. The hostage squeezed his eyes shut, crying louder.

“It’s over, dude,” Wade told the criminal breezily. “Hand him over and you might get a few decades shaved off your prison sentence.”

The man wavered, but glancing at his incapacitated comrades seemed to bolster his courage. “Don’t more or I shoot!” he repeated, his voice rising to a near-hysterical shout.

Wade raised his hands slowly. Peter followed his lead, trying to show that they weren’t dangerous.

A shot rang out and he flinched backwards in shock. His ears rang as his eyes flew open and he checked the hostage worriedly.

The poor man was still standing, shaking violently. The criminal who had been trapping him in a headlock was on the floor, eyes glassy, forehead collapsed.

Peter wrenched up his mask just in time to be sick in the corner.

Wade’s soothing hand found the small of his back, rubbing gently. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and it sounded like he genuinely meant it. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I just didn’t know what to do…and I knew  _ that  _ would work.”

“You could have gotten him  _ killed! _ ” Peter shouted, turning to gesture at the sobbing man. He spit, trying to clear his mouth of the awful taste of vomit, and tugged his mask back down. “Come on. We need to get out of here before the police show up.”

*

Peter was silent the whole way home. He couldn’t tell if he was just shaken at seeing the dead criminal or if he was mad at Wade. He wouldn’t call Wade’s actions right, per se, but the hostages had all survived, as had two of the three criminals. And he was sure it had been the most nonviolent mission that Wade had ever gone on…

“Peter - ” Wade began after they had changed back into normal clothes and regrouped in Peter’s bedroom.

“I need some time to think,” Peter interrupted. He didn’t meet Wade’s gaze, not wanting to see the hurt there. Wade only lingered for a second before sighing and leaving his bedroom.

It was only after a few minutes, however, that he came back in. “You need to come look at this,” he said, true fear tightening his voice and cutting off the retort that Peter had been preparing.

He hurried into the living room after Wade. The television was on, and since Aunt May was in her bedroom, the boys were free to watch it alone.

It was a news reporting of the recent bank theft. “…was pronounced dead at the scene,” the polished woman was saying. “There were no civilian casualties, but a search has been issued for the so-called Deadpool, a masked vigilante who is accused of a variety of dangerous crimes. Spider-Man is also wanted for questioning, although based on the pair’s prior tactics, it is believed that Deadpool shot the victim.”

“ _ Victim? _ ” Wade snarled, but Peter held up a hand to silence him, worry clogging his throat.   
“If anyone has any information as to the locations or identities of either Spider-Man or Deadpool, please come forward.” The story faded to commercials and Peter sank back in the couch.

He couldn’t afford to have Wade ruin his reputation. He didn’t want to stop fighting crime because of this. But Deadpool was a wanted man, and Spider-Man was wanted in association.

“Peter - ”

“Maybe it’s best if you sit these next few weeks out,” Peter suggested quietly.

“What?”

“Don’t go out in your Deadpool costume anymore. Leave the fighting to me. We can’t risk you being caught, or - ”

“Or you being punished in association.” Wade didn’t sound bitter about the idea. He simply sounded defeated. That was what broke Peter’s heart. “Sure. I can stay off the streets for a few weeks.”

“Maybe until school starts back up again.” That would take Wade out of commision for the entire month.

“Yeah, okay. If it’s what you think is best.” Wade scooted hesitantly closer, as if unsure how Peter felt about him.

“I don’t hate you for this,” Peter whispered, closing the distance and pressing himself into Wade. He could only hope that Aunt May stayed in her bedroom. “I know I had trouble wrapping my head around…everything, but I don’t hate you, Wade. I couldn’t.”

Wade let out a deep breath. He rested his head on top of Peter’s, who threw an arm around his waist.

“I just don’t want to lose you. And if you go back out right now…I’m afraid that’ll happen,” he explained.

He felt Wade nod, albeit silently, and then press a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s getting late,” he murmured. “I’m going to turn in.”   
They didn’t move for a few more minutes, however, not until Aunt May’s doorknob began to turn and they flew apart, still trying to keep this all a secret.

*

Peter had returned to Central Park. His first date with Wade felt like it had been centuries ago, but going to the park alone already had a bittersweet feel.

Wade had been gone when he had woken up this morning. He was worried until Aunt May had calmly informed him that Wade was out job hunting again. Peter wasn’t sure whether or not this was true, but he could only hope it was. The sooner Wade moved out, the sooner Aunt May would come to terms with their relationship. He hoped.

He was still expecting to get his ass whooped when she found out that they had been dating while they all lived together.

Peter had wasted the day at Ned’s apartment, throwing himself into the boy’s video games without abandon. Ned had to have some spidey sense of his own, because Wade’s name didn’t pass his lips once in their time together. But then, he must have heard the news. Everyone had.

The sun has sunk below the horizon but remnants of its rays still lingered in the sky, turning the clouds vibrant oranges, outlined in deep purples. The ground, however, was still well lit by lamplights, phone screens, and the distant glow of skyscrapers - there was a reason why New York City was nicknamed “The City That Never Sleeps.”

Peter was alone on this specific walkway, creating the illusion that he had the park to himself. He knew this was untrue but enjoyed the quiet peacefulness. It gave him room to think.

So he was alone when he saw the man.

The guy was crouched over something, back hunched strangely, breathing heavily. Peter ducked behind a tree when he saw him, his spidey senses acting up like mad. He ran a hand through his hair as if to rub off the tingling in his scalp and peered carefully at the stranger.

There was something wrong with him, that was for sure - but whether it was run-of-the-mill crazy or something Peter needed to check into, he wasn’t sure.

Something about the man’s skin looked…off.  It was too shiny or something. He was just out of the nearby pool of lamplight, however, so Peter couldn’t be sure.

The man finally staggered to his feet and turned back towards Peter - and he locked eyes with the terrifying creature.

It was pitch black and towered far above Peter. But its face was the most horrifying thing about it.

Huge white eyes lacking pupils stared blankly while the creature leered at him with a mouth full of jagged teeth, so full that there was little room for the wicked tongue, which trickled out of one corner, flicking through the air like a snake sampling its dinner.

They stared at each other for a good few seconds. Peter tensed, ready to run or fight or both - but the creature beat him to it. With a creaking, snarling noise that seemed to emanate from the pit of its stomach, it took off into the darkening Central Park.

Without thinking too deeply about what he was doing - a good superhero tactic, he had found - Peter took off in pursuit. He dodged trees, benches, and deeply confused civilians as he ran as fast as he could after the monster. His brain was still reeling from what he had just seen - what  _ was  _ that thing?

It proved too fast. Soon, Peter lost sight of its dark, shiny skin in the inkier shadows of Central Park.

Whatever that creature was, it was loose in New York City.

Peter stood, panting for breath, for a moment before turning to go home.

He doubted that would be the last he saw of whatever that was.


	18. Alien on the Loose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda (read: really) proud of the dialogue at the beginning of the chapter but idk if it was in character or not...oh well.
> 
> BIG NEWS: I created a TUMBLR! I wanted to start doing more with these characters thanks to the awesome feedback I got on this fic, so I thought it'd be cool if I had an easily accessible site through which people could request fics. So if you wanna read a certain headcanon or one-shot, go to this link!
> 
> https://livin-in-my-head.tumblr.com/

Peter entered his room to find Wade reclining on his bed.

“Oh, hey,” Wade greeted him when he entered, flashing a grin.   
“What are you doing?”

“Relaxing.” Wade leisurely raised his hands and placed them behind his head.

“On my bed?”

“ _ I _ don’t have one.” Wade stood, still smiling, and crossed the room, pressing himself against Peter so he was close enough to the bedroom door to swing it shut. Then, he grabbed Peter’s sweatshirt and shoved him against the closed door, kissing him fiercely.

Peter raised a hand to grab Wade’s wrist, his heart skipping a beat as he kissed Wade back. Soon, they were both smiling too widely to continue kissing. They remained there, pressed against one another, breathing a little heavier than before. Their breaths mingled in the mere inches between their mouths.

“Miss me?” Peter finally murmured.

“Always.” Wade pressed a kiss to the corner of Peter’s mouth, a sweet gesture that left Peter strangely breathless.

“See anything interesting at the park?” Wade asked as he returned to the bottom bunk of Peter’s bed.

“Yeah, actually,” Peter replied slowly, tugging over his desk chair and sitting on it backwards. “There was…well, it looked like an alien.”

“An alien?”

Peter described the strange creature that he had seen in Central Park, trying not to leave out any details.   
“And you’re sure it wasn’t a costume?”   
“Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, unless someone invented the most realistic costume in the world and casually wore it to Central Park on a conventional Tuesday night. It seemed real.”

“Maybe it  _ was  _ an alien,” Wade muttered. “Nothing like that exists on Earth, that’s for sure.”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. We exist, don’t we? We’re just fortunate enough not to be eight-foot-tall murder beasts.”

“Now, that’s unfair to the Central Park alien. We don’t  _ know _ that he’s a murder beast.”

“We also don’t know that he’s a ‘he.’”

“You called him a he multiple times. I assumed you had seen some monster junk.”

“Jesus, Wade.” Peter flushed. “I was a little too preoccupied with the fact that a  _ literal monster  _ was running through Central Park.”

Wade chuckled. “Okay. So a hulking monster of undetermined gender was spotted in Central Park by…just you?”

“No. A lot of other people saw him.”

“So this’ll be all over the news tomorrow and Area 51 will step in and do their thing. Before you know it, the monster will be locked away, undergoing unspeakable tortures in mankind’s insatiable quest for knowledge, and you’ll be back to worrying about petty thefts.”

“How optimistic,” Peter monotoned. “How are you so chill about this? I mean, I might have just encountered a whole new  _ species! _ ”

Wade thought for a minute before shrugging. “Whatever is going to happen, will happen. Whatever exists or doesn’t exist, we’ll find out about in the morning news. But for right now, I have more exciting things to think about. Like you.” He smiled at Peter and scooted over slightly, patting the available bunk space beside him.

Peter stood and lay down next to him, facing his chest. Wade twined their legs together and Peter felt the tension draining from his body. He might not have ever been in a relationship before, but he knew this was right. It felt right, at least.

He felt his eyelids tugging downwards and wished he could fall asleep just like this, wrapped in Wade’s arms.

But he couldn’t risk Aunt May popping in to ask him for something or even just check on him - she was sweet like that - and finding them like this. That wasn’t really how he had envisioned coming out to her.

Not that he had envisioned coming out all that much…

Just the thought of his aunt seeing this, knowing that she was a few thin walls away, was enough to banish the contentedness from Peter. “I have to go to bed,” he murmured to Wade. “I’m really tired.”

“Me, too,” Wade replied. For a moment, it seemed as though he wasn’t going to let Peter go, but he finally sighed and sat upright. Peter did the same and they looked at each other for a second before Peter shook free of his strange, trance-like state and stood, walking over to his dresser to grab pajama pants.

He sensed Wade approaching from behind him and felt his boyfriend press a kiss to the top of his head. Seconds later, the bedroom door opened and closed, and Peter was alone in the space.

He changed into his pajama pants and slid into the top bunk of his bed, flipping onto his back on top of the covers. A long time ago, Aunt May had decorated the ceiling of his bedroom with glow-in-the-dark stars. He didn’t really notice them anymore, but now, he traced their sharp edges with his eyes, his thoughts in too much turmoil to sleep.

But eventually, he slipped into unconsciousness.

*

The next day, Wade shook him awake.

Peter rose with a sleepy smile, but the worry on Wade’s face snapped him into consciousness.

“News. Now,” Wade ordered tensely. Peter scrambled down the short bunk bed ladder to the floor of his bedroom and followed his boyfriend into the living room.

The TV was on and broadcasting a blurry picture of, unmistakably, the monster that Peter had seen in Central Park.

“The creature was sighted in the late evening by many different eyewitnesses. The police became involved but the matter was not considered one of importance until this photo was taken in the early morning by a tourist. As of right now, the creature has not been identified nor caught.”

“Shit,” Peter muttered, launching himself over the back of the couch to sit cross-legged and watch the news more closely. It seemed as though that was all the information they had on the subject, however, because it switched to commercials.

“Was that all?” he asked, twisting back to face Wade.

“That was a repeat of an earlier story. And yeah, pretty much.” He shrugged. “Remember how last night you asked me how I wasn’t freaking out?”   
“Yeah.”

“Well, um, status update.” Wade grabbed the remote and turned off the television. “There is a  _ fucking alien _ loose in New York City!”   
“We don’t know that it’s an alien,” Peter tried, but Wade forged on.

“I’m allowed to go outside now, right? I mean, we have to track this thing down!”

“Wade,  _ no _ . We can’t risk that. Let me go after this thing. Then, if I don’t succeed, it’s your turn.”

Wade pouted, sinking down onto the couch with crossed arms. Peter gently tugged his hands free, gripping them tightly. “Please, Wade. For me,” he whispered beseechingly.

Wade searched his face for a second before sighing, caving. “Fine,” he muttered. “I trust you.”

Peter grinned and stood, hurrying back into his bedroom and changing into his suit in record time. His heightened senses felt something just as he was about to climb through the window and he turned to find Wade in the doorway, leaning against the frame in his usual stance.

“Go kick its ass, babe,” he said, grinning.

Peter returned the smile, his stomach fluttering at Wade’s casual use of the word “babe.” Then, he climbed out the window and swung away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY TUMBLR:
> 
> https://livin-in-my-head.tumblr.com/
> 
> Request one-shots or expanded headcanons!


	19. Peter and the Alien - WADE'S PERSPECTIVE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WHAT?! Two chapters in the same night?! This is what happens when anxiety convinces you that fanfiction is a priority!!
> 
> Also...I maybe went overboard. But can you blame me? There are no NSFW scenes but it's certainly the most intense scene I've ever written because I am a vanilla suburban girl. Don't judge me.
> 
> MY TUMBLR: https://livin-in-my-head.tumblr.com/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> QUICK NOTE ABOUT VENOM  
> (because yes, the alien is Venom)  
> I changed the character. Like, a lot. Venom originally hid from Peter, acting as a normal (if super smart) suit that would emerge at night to rampage and shit. When Peter had the suit examined, he realized that it was actually a living creature. For the sake of this fic, Venom is much more invasive, taking over whenever he damn well pleases. He isn't trying to hide because he can control Peter.

Not that he would ever admit it to Peter, but the reason that Wade reclined on his bed was because the pillow smelled like him.

Wade sighed, rolling onto his side and turning his face into the sheets. He wondered where Peter was - he could be losing a fight with a dangerous alien right now, but that stupid agreement meant that he had to stay home and let his boyfriend do the crime-fighting. Wade felt useless, lounging around the apartment, avoiding Aunt May to make it look like he was still job hunting. Technically, he  _ was  _ still supposed to be going out for interviews, but he selfishly didn’t want to leave. He loved the woman’s kindness - and her  _ nephew _ …

Suddenly, Peter slipped in through the window. “Hey,” Wade greeted him, grinning as he propped himself up on his forearms. Peter didn’t reply or even look at him, instead crossing the room to lock the bedroom door. The action felt strangely ominous.

“Peter, what’s going on?”

Peter crossed the room and dropped onto Wade, kissing him fiercely. There was something different in his kiss - unusual. It felt way more possessive than usual. Something was off.

Peter bit Wade’s bottom lip and he suddenly forgot all his concerns.

Finally, Peter broke away. Both boys were breathing heavily. “What was that for?” Wade asked. Peter just chuckled low in his throat and dropped to Wade’s neck. Wade let his head fall back against the pillow, his breath hitching in his throat as his eyes fluttered shut.

He opened them in time to catch Peter raising his head again, pressing their foreheads together. “What has gotten into you?” Wade murmured, no longer caring about the answer.

Peter grinned, and Wade was momentarily brought down from his high. That wasn’t the quiet, shy smile that he had fallen for. This was something animalistic - feral. It scared him.

“Peter - ” he said, about to push for real answers, but then Peter pressed himself flush against Wade and Wade’s vision went blank. A small groan slipped from his lips, unbidden.

Peter’s hand drifted down and snagged in the waistband of Wade’s sweatpants. He smiled again, and through a terrific show of self-restraint, Wade pushed up into a sitting position.

His boyfriend frowned, sitting back on his heels while still gripping Wade’s sweatpants. Wade tried not to focus on that too much.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked, cocking his head to one side like an innocent puppy. “Don’t you want this?”

Fuck.  _ Fuck _ .

“Yeah, Peter, I - of course I - not like  _ this _ .”

“Not like what?”

“Peter, can you just tell me what’s going on, please?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A dangerous edge had entered Peter’s tone. It terrified Wade.

Then he noticed something black trickling out of Peter’s sleeve.

“What the hell is that?” he demanded as a thick black liquid-like substance began coating Peter’s arms. “Peter, what’s happening?”

The liquid spread. It was creeping up Peter’s neck now, faster and faster. Before Wade could react further, it had enveloped his boyfriend.

Two huge, white eyes blinked at him, engulfing most of Peter’s head, and a jagged mouth full of wickedly sharp teeth leered at him, a red tongue flapping wildly as the creature hissed.

“Holy shit,” Wade breathed. “You’re the alien.” Then, he grabbed the creature, rose off of the bed, and slammed it against the back wall.

“What did you do to Peter?” he practically shouted.

The creature hissed, a strange, rattling noise, as it leered at him. It wasn’t trying to free itself, but Wade could feel how tense it was beneath his hands. It was almost as if…

_ Oh my god _ .

Peter was trying to get out.

Wade slammed the thing against a wall again. “Let him go!” he shouted.

The creature made another strange noise that was akin to laughter. Then it trickled away, the face dissolving, the black substance disappearing back beneath Peter’s clothing.

Peter swayed, almost falling, but Wade caught him just in time. “Peter?” he asked tentatively.

“Wade?” Peter grabbed his head with one hand, glancing around in a daze. “What happened?” He took a closer look at Wade and lifted feather-like fingertips to his neck. “Are those… _ hickeys _ ?”

“Yeah, they’re from you.”

“When did that happen?”

“Like, two minutes ago. You don’t remember anything?”

“No, I - wait.” Peter focused, grabbing onto Wade’s arm for support. Wade walked him slowly to the bed and they sat on the bottom bunk.

“Yeah, okay, I remember fragments. Bits and pieces.” Peter darted a glance at him, flushing in a way that told Wade he had remembered “bits and pieces” from a few minutes ago. The aggravated skin on his neck seemed to pulse at the memory.

“So you know that you currently have a parasitic hitchhiker?” he asked.

“Yeah. I was listening to a police scanner and it said that the creature had been spotted in this old industrial district - bad street. I found it in one of the warehouses and it ripped through my webs like it was nothing. The police backed off once I showed up.” He sighed, rubbing his face. “It can control me. I don’t - I don’t know how to escape. I don’t know when it’s going to take over. Jesus, Wade, I’m scared.”

Peter leaned into Wade, who held him closely. “We’ll figure this out,” he murmured. “I promise.”

He belatedly regretted the promise. He had no idea if he would be able to come through on it.

*

May returned from grocery shopping as Wade was fixing dinner. Nothing fancy, just some noodles, but from the look on her face, you would have thought he was making a three-course meal.

“Oh,  _ Wade _ ,” she gushed. “This is just wonderful!”

“It’s just some macaroni,” he pointed out, embarrassed.

“It saves me the trouble of cooking,” she countered, beginning to put groceries away. “Where’s Peter?”

“He’s napping. Has a headache.”

“Oh, poor thing. Is he feeling up to dinner?”

“I thought I’d set a bowl aside for him.”

“How thoughtful,” she cooed.

Wade grinned, doling out some noodles for her and himself. “Do you mind watching some TV while we eat?” he asked, already crossing over to the living room. As soon as Peter’s aunt nodded, he grabbed the remote and turned on the television. It opened on the news channel that Wade had been watching this morning and he tensed, eager to see if there was an update.

Sure enough, they were in the middle of recounting how Spider-Man had shown up on the scene and grappled with the alien before mysteriously disappearing.

“I don’t understand how the police are okay with that guy just swooping in and taking care of everything,” May muttered as she sat beside Wade.

“He does the hard work for them,” Wade replied. “He solves their crimes and takes down their criminals without killing them or causing too big of a mess.”

“That’s a good point. But now he’s disappeared with this weird… _ thing _ ? Seems suspicious to me.”

“Yeah, the police should have been monitoring that one better,” Wade conceded.

After he and May were done, Wade took Peter’s dinner to him. The light in the bedroom was off and Peter was lying on the bottom bunk of his bed, facing the window and hunched into himself slightly.

“Dinner,” Wade called softly. “Peter?”

Peter rolled onto his other side. Wade realized that Peter hadn’t been curled into himself, but that nearly every muscle in his body was clenched tightly. His eyes were squeezed shut and his breath was escaping him in quick pants as if he was bearing a great weight.

“Peter!” Wade hurried to his side and flinched back when he saw the familiar liquid seeping slowly out of his boyfriend’s sleeves. “No, no, no, May can’t see this,” he whispered frantically, pushing at the substance as if he could make it hide itself again. It did nothing.

“I’m trying,” Peter snarled, rolling away from Wade.

Wade considered his options for a split second before sighing and scooping Peter up. He crawled out of the window with Peter thrown over one shoulder, who was putting too much effort into repressing the alien to complain.

He set him down on the roof and watched him warily. It was as if, once they were out of the apartment, Peter gave up the fight. The creature suddenly came lurching over his skin, the familiar hideous face encompassing Peter’s head.

It grinned at Wade in its own demented way before using a strange webbing - thicker than Peter’s - to swing off into the city.

Wade contemplated going after him briefly - he could already feel worry clawing at his throat - but decided against it. After all, he couldn’t keep up with a creature who didn’t have to use roads or public transportation. The thought of that alien on the subway almost made him smile.

He returned to the apartment and glanced at the time.  _ If Peter isn’t back in three hours _ , he decided silently,  _ I’ll go after him. _

_ For now, maybe someone will report him to the news _ .

He returned to the living room, steeling himself to make small talk with May and keep her out of Peter’s bedroom.

_ Please, Peter, hurry back. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TUMBLR: https://livin-in-my-head.tumblr.com/


	20. Banishing the Creature

When Wade saw the fire on TV while idly channel surfing, it took everything in him not to dash up to the roof immediately to change.

According to the unsettlingly calm reporter, the police believed arson to be the intention of the factory fire, which had trapped many people inside the building. Firefighters were trying in vain to extinguish the fire, but could not get to the seven people still trapped within.

Wade stayed rooted on the couch, watching the screen desperately, searching for anything that would suggest Peter was at the scene.

He gave it five minutes - which felt like five hours - before leaving.

He only took his mask, in the hopes that he could slip it on before entering the building and be disguised without being swarmed upon by policemen recognizing him. It was a faulty plan, but it was how Wade did the whole hero business - swoop in, fuck some shit up, swoop out, hopefully save a few lives in the process.

This fire was intense, even more so than the previous ones he had helped save people from…or started. Wade held his breath as he hurried into the building. Instantly, all the moisture in his eyes evaporated and everything felt like it was burning. It wasn’t unlike the final procedure to cure his cancer, the one that had turned him into what he was now.

He tried not to think about that as he forged onwards.

A beam crashed behind him, blocking the way he had come in.  _ Damn _ . He would have to find a different exit.

Wade only found five of the victims, which broke his heart, but he couldn’t waste time trying to find two people who were probably dead.

One woman was on the ground, unmoving, and when Wade tried to find her pulse, he couldn’t. With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he gestured for the survivors to follow him. They were made of tough stuff - despite them hacking up lungs and swiping at agonizingly dry eyes, they were able to follow him through the flames.

He saw a window through the licking fire. There was a narrow path that he could fit through what with his healing abilities, but he knew the civilians would get terribly hurt if he had them follow him through the flames. He scooped one man up, shielding him with his body, and gestured for the others to stay put. They crouched low to the ground, trying desperately to stay conscious.

Wade poked his head out of the window and gestured frantically for the fire department to bring over a safety net. They did so and he dropped the man into the net. They were only a couple stories up and his survival rate was better out there than in here.

The other survivors were too weak to fight the crazy man throwing them out the window, all but one man, who struggled too feebly to be much of a fight.

Finally, all the survivors were safely out. Wade hurried back into the fire, searching for a back exit. He made it down to the first floor before something boomed far above him.

Before he could process what was happening, the ceiling collapsed.

He managed to dodge most of the falling debris, but a piece hit him, knocking him to the ground. Another larger piece fell on his leg, effectively pinning him to the ground. He cried out in pain and looked frantically over to the wall, which had caved in from the explosion. The sunlight was shining in cheerily, oblivious to the terrors happening within the building.

Wade struggled as hard as he could to get his leg free but it was well and truly stuck. Sweat rolled down his face as the fire grew closer, bigger.

Maybe this was how it ended. Trapped here, just as everything had started to go well for him. Just as he had cured his cancer, gotten free from his family, gotten Peter to notice him, to be his   _ boyfriend… _

He let his head fall back to hit the floor. Tears mingled with the sweat rolling down his face.

And then he heard the hissing.

He lifted his head, looking over to the hole in the wall. Shocked, he watched as Peter, covered in that strange monster, staggered into view. The creature looked like it was in agony, trying desperately to get away from the fire. Meanwhile, Peter, inside the suit, was trying equally desperately to get to Wade.

“Peter!” Wade cried frantically.

His boyfriend looked over at him sharply. The creature tried to turn its head away but Peter forced it to keep looking at Wade.

“Peter, please - ” Wade stopped talking, choking on a sob. He had been in tight situations before, but never had so much fear, so much  _ pain _ , consumed him. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted Peter.

The creature roared and took one staggering step towards Wade. Encouraged, he worked up the strength to begin struggling again.

It was obvious that Peter was still fighting the alien every step of the way. Each movement looked agonizing, both for the creature and, Wade could imagine, the boy inside.

“Peter, please,” he repeated. “I know you can fight this, I know you can get free - ” A piece of debris crashed near his head and he flinched away, message cut short. “Peter, keep listening to my voice, Just keep walking over here, one step at a time. The sooner I get out of here, the sooner we can go home and help you. Peter - ” A new lance of pain stabbed through his leg and he involuntarily screamed, brow furrowing as he panted desperately.

That seemed to seal the deal. The creature jerkily made its way towards Wade. The closer it got to the fire, the more something…strange began to happen. The monster’s skin seemed to be  _ bubbling _ .

“Peter, be careful,” he tried to say, but it came out as an agonized groan. He could only hope that Peter wasn’t getting hurt underneath the melting skin. It was the best he could do as his vision sparked.

Suddenly, the creature fell to the ground, producing a hideous shrieking noise. Wade tried to twist away from it as the bubbling got more intense, but his eyes were locked on the hideous sight.

The monster bubbled and puckered as it writhed on the floor. As Wade watched, the skin slithered off of his boyfriend and oozed over the floor towards the opening in the wall.

Peter was left behind, gasping for breath on the floor, his skin raw and red. He scrambled to his feet and hurried over to Wade, bending and brushing the hair off of his forehead.

“Wade. Oh, god. Are you okay?”

Wade watched him through hazy vision.

Peter hooked his fingers underneath the slab of stone and, with a tremendous effort, slid the huge piece of debris off of Wade’s leg. Immediately, the pain flared up, all the way up to his thigh. Wade cried out, but Peter forced him to climb onto his one good leg.

Wade leaned onto his boyfriend heavily, panting for breath. Peter pushed back his sleeve and webbed his way through the hole in the factory wall as the building burned behind them.

*

They landed on a nearby roof. Neither boy had the strength to make it home just yet. Wade flopped onto his back and Peter leaned over him, cupping his face in his hands.

“Please, Wade, tell me you’re okay,” he murmured frantically.

Wade’s eyes were closed, shielding him from the harsh sun. He could feel the wounds on and in his body healing, his muscles and bones knitting themselves back together agonizingly  slowly.

“Wade,  _ please _ .” Peter’s voice broke pitifully and Wade forced his eyes open.

“Hey, Peter,” he rasped, struggling to grin.

“Thank god,” Peter said, his voice trembling. He bent and kissed Wade fiercely. “You’re not allowed to ever scare me like that again. Understand?”

Wade sat and wrapped his arms around Peter, holding his boyfriend close. “Today sucked,” he replied, evading Peter’s question. He knew he couldn’t promise such a thing, and he also knew that Peter would learn to accept that.

“Agreed.” Peter laughed ruefully. “It’s a good thing that creature - whatever it was - was so afraid of fire. I hope it died.”

“We’re probably not that lucky.”

“Probably not. But I’m officially ruling it ‘not my problem.’” Peter chuckled softly, burying his face in Wade’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“For saving those people in the factory even when we had agreed that you wouldn’t play Deadpool.”

Wade grinned. “Anytime.”

“No, not anytime! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Peter pulled back and smacked Wade’s chest lightly. “But at least I’m feeling better.”

“I’m not.”

“Do you feel up to going home?”

“Only if you carry me.”

Peter sighed and laughed simultaneously. “Come on, you big baby.”

“I just had my leg crushed by a piece of stone! Have  _ you _ ever had  _ your _ leg crushed by a piece of stone? Didn’t think so.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s go home.”

*

The two boys slipped into Peter’s bedroom. Peter began changing out of his suit when Wade, leaning against the wall, gestured him over weakly.

Grinning, Peter strode over and kissed him, running his fingers through his hair. They were both almost smiling too wide to continue kissing - almost.

Wade dimly registered the door open, but before he could pull away from Peter or vice versa, he heard Aunt May’s disbelieving voice.

“What the fu - ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was it. The official end of "The Living Arrangement." I have gotten support on this fic like I have received on no other - it's utterly insane, all of the nice comments and kudos you all have been leaving. It warms my heart, and was what inspired me to both expand and complete this work!
> 
> For those of you who are heartbroken to see this go, you'll be pleased to hear that I have two other Spideypool fics in the works. One is centered around journalist!Peter and sniper!Wade, and features them as adults in their late twenties. It's a little more mature (but I'm still not writing smut so don't get too excited lol). The second fic will be focusing on teenage best friends Peter and Wade, the latter of whom recently returned from his controversial cancer treatment and is scarred (mentally and physically) from it, where both of them dream of leaving their small southern town.
> 
> If you want to see me write a specific fic, message me privately or request it at my Tumblr: https://livin-in-my-head.tumblr.com/
> 
> Thank you again for all of the INSANE support you have shown this fic. I'll be just as sad to see it go!


End file.
